


The Wolf and the Phoenix (Merlin/His Dark Materials fusion)

by dk323



Series: The Wolf and The Phoenix [1]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Daemons, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-28
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 59,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another world where everyone has daemons, Arthur is an exiled prince for not letting Merlin be executed to further the King's blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the King's men catch up to them.</p><p>It's not the danger, but a damning prophecy that'll put their strong bond to the ultimate test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
**Title:** The Wolf and the Phoenix {1/7}  
 **Author:** dk323  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Spoilers:** Up to 2x04. Blink and you'll miss it minor spoilers in this part.  
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The “His Dark Materials” books are property of Philip Pullman. No money is being made.  
 **Summary:**  
There’s another world where Arthur is an exiled prince for committing treason against the crown, for stopping Merlin’s execution, for not letting the sorcerer be killed to further the king’s blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the king’s men catch up to them.

It’s lucky that Excalibur can do more than strike men down in battle…

 **A/N:** A bit of a His Dark Materials crossover where Arthur and Merlin (from a different world, not the show's world) both have daemons. Also, Excalibur is like the subtle knife in this - so its capability to cut through into other worlds is from "His Dark Materials."

 **Details on daemons:  
**  
\+ Daemons are the souls of people that are outside of their bodies rather than inside.

\+ Daemons take on animal forms. The daemons can talk and are the opposite gender to the people they’re attached to (so a male will have a female daemon). The type of animal depends on the person’s individual traits and personality.

\+ A magical person like a witch would have a bird daemon. So, that’s why Merlin has a phoenix daemon. Also, the daemons of magical people are able to be far away from the person they’re attached to.

\+ On the other hand, daemons of non-magical people have to keep close to the person, so that would apply to Arthur’s wolf daemon. If the daemon is not near the person, then the person will feel pain/sick at the loss – since the daemon is a part of them.

\+ If a person’s daemon is killed, then the person will be, well, catatonic, soulless – and it’s a mercy that they die not long afterwards.

\+ It’s a major taboo to touch another person’s daemon.

 

~ * ~  
 

 

 

A wolf’s howl broke their slumber. Arthur awoke first, drawing Excalibur immediately.

 

“They’ve found us,” Krolewska, his white wolf daemon, announced urgently.

 

Arthur nodded and then he turned to Merlin who, too, had been woken up by Krola’s howl. He was rubbing his face tiredly in an attempt to wake himself up.

 

“Where’s Zlota, Merlin? We need to go.”

 

Merlin just looked at him and then his eyes flashed gold briefly before he said, “She’s not far.”

 

Krola told them, her movements belying her anxiety. “She was the one who sighted Uther’s men from the tree tops. She came here to tell me, but then she decided to head back to get a better look. I _told her_ not to, but she didn’t listen!”

 

“What?” Arthur said. “They’ll try to shoot her down!”

 

Merlin shook his head, trying not to worry too much about Zlocisty, his golden phoenix daemon. She was strong and capable – he trusted her judgment. Zlota would never put herself in danger, he was sure of it.

 

“Krola, do you know which way to go?” Merlin asked the wolf daemon.

 

She gave him an offended look. “Well, of course, I do!”

 

And with that, she held her head high and moved ahead of them. Arthur went after his daemon. Merlin shook his head. He always seemed to forget that Krola was just as every bit as arrogant as Arthur could be.

 

Arthur turned to him. “Merlin, are you coming?”

 

“I’m just going to pack up in case we don’t come back. Surely we need to keep our supplies on hand.”

 

Arthur nodded. He didn’t go any further, but Merlin could see Krola’s impatient look as she lay down and gave him a pointed glare, her head on top of her paws.

 

Merlin turned back to their campsite. With his arm out and a flash of his eyes, the fire went out and all their things were put away in their packs.

 

He was about to gather the packs when he fell to his knees, a broken cry of pain coming from him.

 

“Merlin?” Arthur said immediately, rushing over to him.

 

“ _Zlota_ …” Merlin grit out. He collapsed to the ground.

 

Krola growled, her sharp teeth bared, ready to pounce.

 

And then they saw one of the king’s men appear in the clearing. He was one of Uther’s knights and he was holding Merlin’s daemon by its long, slender neck. A few scarlet and gold feathers fell to the ground as the man carelessly shook the phoenix.

 

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” The intruder said, his tone too cocky for his own good.

 

Arthur had no qualms about driving his sword through the man. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone harming Merlin.

 

 _No one._

 

“Let her go!” Arthur commanded, furious.

 

He charged at the knight with Excalibur. His daemon snarled viciously and went in to attack the knight’s hound daemon with fierce determination.

 

In sudden alarm at the attack, the man relinquished his hold on the phoenix.

 

 _“It all happened too fast. I couldn’t get away!”_ The phoenix cried.

 

And then, Zlota immediately changed into a firefly and flew to Merlin, hiding underneath his shirt. Merlin sighed in relief and, shakily, he stood up and joined the fight.

 

Because now, more men were making themselves known and coming into the clearing.

 

Arthur was holding his own as he fought off two men at once and continued on without any sign of tiring, his eyes flashing with intent, and his movements smooth and refined. Krola fought by his side, her eyes glowing silver as she went after the daemons, her sharp teeth ripping into fur-covered flesh.

 

Merlin produced balls of fire, of light, and aimed them at anyone daring to come at him. The king’s knights had little chance of striking a blow, what with the illusion spell he had been practicing. It allowed Merlin to mislead them, make them think he was in one place one moment, but then when a man went to charge forward, Merlin had changed his location. He remembered seeing Anhora, the Keeper of the Unicorns, doing it and during his months in exile with Arthur, Merlin had taken it upon himself to learn the useful trick.

 

His daemon, back to her usual phoenix form, swooped down to strike, sinking her claws into the knights’ daemons – trying to scratch their eyes out.

 

Merlin knew Zlocisty could do it – he had seen proof of her prowess a good number of times. One time, Arthur had been injured by a rogue group of bandits, a few magic users among them. Zlota had attacked the bandits’ daemons with ferocity while Merlin made short work of killing the thieves – only sparing the magic users who pleaded with him, saying they hadn’t been in league with the brigands, to please just let them go.

 

And so Merlin did. They had seemed sincere in their pleas and they had remained oddly passive whilst the bandits tried their hand at attacking him and Arthur.

 

The months, nearing a year now, spent in exile hadn’t been easy for them. Merlin knew he had to convince Arthur soon that they had to leave. This place, this world was growing too dangerous for them. Only with King Uther’s demise, would they have a chance in this world. A chance at fulfilling the destiny that Merlin thought could not be sooner fulfilled, sooner _started._

 

Merlin couldn’t move fast enough, cursing his inattention, as a knight came up behind him and kicked him to the ground.

 

He could just spot Arthur with his hands full with the knights, parrying and striking blows when he found an opening.

 

Merlin looked up at the man standing before him. Zlota flew in a fluid circle low around them, ever-watchful.

 

“Why don’t you just kill me?” Merlin asked of the man. He felt irritated that the knight before him could only do so much as stare at him. The knight’s daemon was idle as well, her gaze steady on Zlota.

 

He found it very strange that the man hadn’t struck him with his sword, but instead had kicked him down. Now, he didn’t even have his sword directed at Merlin, but it was held in the man’s grasp away from him.

 

What was this about?

 

Then the man grinned without mirth and he crouched down in front of Merlin.

 

Merlin tried to back away, but then the man’s hand shot out and he grabbed a fistful of his hair.

 

He pulled Merlin’s head back, which elicited a sharp cry from him.

 

“A message from King Uther, sorcerer. He has found a use for you.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened. _What?_

 

“What are you talking about?” Merlin demanded.

 

“If I tell you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

 

Merlin just looked at him. “Tell me right now,” he commanded, imbuing his magic into the order.

 

The knight’s eyes glazed over and then he spoke, his voice sounding vacant to his ears. “The king has discovered a way to subdue daemons of sorcerers. Make the sorcerers do his bidding that way. Take away their free will.”

 

“Is that all?” Merlin asked, his tone carefully light despite the fire he felt burning inside of him. He wouldn’t let himself fear what might happen if… so Merlin focused on the outrage, the anger instead.

 

The man nodded dumbly.

 

Before the man could recover from Merlin’s spell, Merlin grabbed the other’s sword and stabbed the man straight through with it.

 

 _“Arthur! We have to leave NOW.”_ Merlin spoke silently with a thread of urgency in his mind to Arthur.

 

One of the first things they had mastered, with some help from the Druids, was the art of silent communication, from mind-to-mind.

 

They knew how important the skill was what with the danger of speaking aloud (that being revealing their location to those who wished them harm).

 

Having just finished fighting a man, Arthur looked up, trying to seek out Merlin with his eyes. _“All right,”_ He said silently in reply.

 

The pathetic few left of Uther’s knights retreated. They knew when to surrender.

 

 _“Smart knights,”_ Merlin thought, his musing laden with heavy sarcasm.

 

He could hear Arthur chuckle in his mind. _“That they are,”_ Arthur remarked back to him.

 

Arthur made his way over to him. Merlin gathered their packs and gave Arthur’s pack to him when he reached him.

 

Then without preamble, Merlin leaned in to kiss him on the lips.

 

They disappeared, riding on the winds of Merlin’s magic.

 

~ * ~

 

“You idiot!” Arthur exclaimed.

 

While he was used to Merlin, without notice, causing them to disappear and travel magically across some distance, Arthur never thought that Merlin would be this reckless as to transport them right inside Camelot. In the castle’s courtyard no less.

 

The two of them hadn’t dared coming back to Camelot since they had begun their exile.

 

“I know, I know!” Merlin said hurriedly, understanding Arthur’s dismay. Krola graced Merlin with a disapproving glare. “But I just have this feeling – look, Arthur, you have to use Excalibur. We have to leave this world – it’s not safe for us anymore! We can’t continue like this much longer!”

 

The people milling about in the courtyard were beginning to realize Merlin and Arthur’s presence.

 

They had to leave soon before the guards came after them.

 

“You came here to force me to do it, didn’t you? They’ll throw us to the dungeons for execution if we don’t leave now, right?”

 

Merlin hung his head, feeling a little guilty. Then he gathered the remains of his determination and he said, “You must agree with me, too, Arthur! We need a break – a safe place! Somewhere that no one will be after us. And--”

 

But then they saw Gwen running up to them, her Scottish terrier daemon, Troy, barking frantically by her side.

 

“Merlin. Arthur. It’s Lady Morgana!” She told them in clear distress.

 

Merlin grasped her arms, trying to calm her, but with little success.

 

“Calm down, Gwen,” He tried to soothe her. “What about Morgana?”

 

“She fell! She fell from the castle ramparts!” Gwen explained. She was sobbing.

 

Arthur was justifiably startled. How could this happen? They had told Morgana to flee, to find them when she found herself no longer welcome in Camelot. “What? Is she--?”

 

Gwen confirmed their worst fears. “She’s dead! She did it to herself.” If anything she looked even more distraught. Gwen turned to Merlin. “You understand, the king would have her killed. He found out. Lady Morgana would not listen to sense! Merlin, _please._ I can’t see you die, too.”

 

She was inconsolable. Merlin held her in his arms, letting her cry into his chest. “It was _horrible._ I couldn’t be there in time to stop her.” Gwen explained further.

 

Arthur looked between Merlin and Gwen and he made his decision. It was no choice at all, really.

 

“We’re leaving. All three of us,” Arthur said resolutely.

 

Gwen shook her head. She, albeit reluctantly, pulled away from Merlin’s embrace and she told him firmly, “No, I couldn’t. This is my home. I’ll be all right. You two go.”

 

They were interrupted by shouts nearby.

 

The guards had arrived.

 

“Please – go, go!” Gwen urged.

 

Arthur took his sword out of its sheath and drew it forward. He relaxed his mind, letting his mind wander from his arm all the way down to the silver edge of Excalibur. He knew he could do this despite having infrequent practice with it (they had relied on Merlin’s magic to carry them through most of the time). He focused and let himself become the very tip of the sword, moving with purpose as he touched the empty air in front of him, looking for a snag to cut through.

 

He found it.

 

 _“Arthur!”_ Merlin said in warning.

 

The guards were getting too close for comfort.

 

Still, Arthur kept his concentration and he cut where he felt the snag, quickly slicing into the other world until there was an opening big enough for a person to go through.

 

He knew he didn’t have the time to insure that the unknown world would be safe for them. From what Arthur could see, briefly, the window opened up into a similar courtyard and everything looked normal – he could see no immediate threat… it was the best he could hope for at the moment.

 

“It’s ready!” Arthur said.

 

He pushed Merlin through first and then Arthur turned to Guinevere.

 

He held out a hand to her, a pleading look in his eyes. “You must come, Guinevere. Whatever you say, I wouldn’t forgive myself if any harm comes to you. If the king seeks to punish you for consorting with enemies of the crown…”

 

Gwen shook her head. “It’s more important that you two are safe. Please don’t worry about me. Just go!”

 

Arthur gave her one last look before he saw Zlota fly through the window in a blur of feathers. The phoenix was carrying Krola as if the wolf weighed nothing – one of the phoenix’s many talents.

 

As it were, Arthur had no choice but to go through. He couldn’t be without his daemon. He could already feel the pang of separation when his wolf daemon was carried through into the other world. And Gwen appeared firm in her decision – there was no convincing her.

 

The guards were coming up to them, the swords drawn and at the ready.

 

Without a glance back, Arthur went through the opening into the other world. Hurriedly, he pinched the edges of the cut together with his fingers to seal the opening closed.

 

Once he was assured that the window was sealed off and that no guards would take advantage of the opening and come in after them, Arthur felt an inner calm come over him. Krola was beside him, rubbing up affectionately against his leg.

 

This world had to be better than the one they had left.

 

Merlin came up to him, Zlota flying high in the sky above him.

 

“I heard a scream, Arthur,” Merlin informed him. “Before you closed the window. Someone screamed.”

 

Arthur just looked at him. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Merlin.” Merlin only gave him a worried look in return.

 

“It’s not Guinevere. It can’t be. She said it herself – she wanted to stay. I couldn’t force her to come.”

 

Merlin nodded, biting his lip.

 

Arthur waved his hand at him. “I do hope you put an invisibility spell on us.”

 

Merlin nodded quickly. “Of course I did. Especially after seeing our duplicates just ahead of us.”

 

Merlin pointed to the two men walking alongside each other coming toward them.

 

Arthur could not believe what he was seeing. That didn’t make sense…the other worlds weren’t supposed to have alternate versions of people.

 

That was just ridiculous.

 

But, all the same, that was definitely him – in a red leather vest with a brown tunic underneath – and Merlin in his blue tunic and brown jacket, no neckerchief this time.

 

Merlin grinned at him. “Since they seem like they belong here – no one chasing them out – I think we’re safe. Isn’t that great?”

 

Arthur rubbed the back of his head in thought. “Yes, well, this certainly makes things interesting.”

 

They walked toward their duplicate selves, intent on getting a closer look at them while they were unseen to the naked eye.

 

“Arthur, do you think this Arthur _doesn't_ know about…me? Considering what happened in our world…”

 

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur gave him a pointed look. The debacle that led to Merlin’s near-execution was something he’d rather not think about. “I told you not to bring up that event. You might have a point though.”

 

And then Merlin noted to Arthur. “They don’t have daemons. Their souls must be inside their bodies.”

 

Krolewska sniffed in disdain, clearly displeased at the thought. Arthur petted her on the head and she licked his hand in a gesture of fondness.

 

“Right, I can see that. I’m not _blind_ , Merlin,” Arthur retorted. “Stop time, would you? I want to investigate this Camelot without having to avoid knocking into people.”

 

As Arthur said this, he had to step aside as a servant girl was about to walk right into him.

 

Merlin shrugged and his eyes flashed gold.

 

And time stopped.

 

He also lifted the invisibility spell off of them.

 

“What the hell is going on??”

 

Arthur and Merlin stood still in obvious surprise. Time had stopped, Merlin was a master at the spell, so why was -- ?

 

Oh –

 

Right.

 

Of course, this world’s Merlin would be left unaffected. Something to do with their magic, he supposed.

 

The other Merlin walked over to them, arms crossing his chest, and a questioning look in his eyes.

 

And he appeared to be not just a little bit baffled and a side of annoyed as well.

 

Merlin didn’t blame him – seeing a duplicate of himself and Arthur – he probably would think he had gone crazy if he didn’t know that this was a different world.

 

“Will either of you explain what is going on? And why you stopped time?” The other Merlin asked.

 

When Arthur only gave a mock-yawn, Merlin concluded it was up to him to explain the situation to uh…himself.

 

This was _weird._

 

And Arthur was an unhelpful prat.

 

Nothing new there, at least.


	2. Chapter 2

  


**Title:** The Wolf and the Phoenix (2/7)  
 **Author:** dk323  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur, Morgana, Gwen  
 **Spoilers:** Up to 2x04.  
 **Disclaimer:** The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The “His Dark Materials” books are property of Philip Pullman. No money is being made.  
 **Summary:  
** There’s another world where Arthur is an exiled prince for committing treason against the crown, for stopping Merlin’s execution, for not letting the sorcerer be killed to further the king’s blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the king’s men catch up to them.

It’s lucky that Excalibur can do more than strike men down in battle…

 **Chapter 2:**  
The past is unraveled – when all hope seems lost, it’s lucky that Merlin and Arthur have each other.  
In the present time, Merlin and Arthur talk to the other world’s Merlin. Also, Merlin sets out to investigate a matter with much pressuring on his daemon’s part.

 **A/N:** A bit of a His Dark Materials crossover where Arthur and Merlin both have daemons (their souls are outside of their bodies and are in animal form).

Wording for spell(s) credit goes to nyxelestia for her information/links on Old English here:  
<http://nyxelestia.livejournal.com/7935.html>.

 **A/N #2:** This chapter was too long to fit into one entry, so I had to cut it short. The second half will be a part of Chapter 3. Sorry about that. :(

 **Past:  
**  
Arthur took the vial of potion that the recently installed court physician (Gaius had died of old age almost a month ago) handed over to him.

“What sort of potion is this?” Arthur asked. He tried not to listen to Merlin’s whimpers behind him.

No matter how much it troubled him to hear the pain inherent in his cries…

Merlin’s daemon was being restrained by one of the guards in the small audience chamber.

“Just do as you’re told. Administer it to him,” His father commanded him, his tone cold and firm.

Arthur knew what his father was doing. He was punishing him for allowing a sorcerer to remain in Camelot despite knowing Merlin’s true nature.

He turned to his father, hoping that he would be able to see reason just this once.

“He was only trying to help. All that Merlin has ever done was for the sake of this kingdom – for the protection of Camelot!” Arthur protested defiantly, a fire in his eyes.

Uther would not hear it. “Enough! You have clearly been enchanted by the boy! He has addled your mind somehow. You will do as I say, Arthur, or I will have _your whore_ executed right now!”

The king’s boar daemon, Thraxa, looked smug.

The people gathered in the hall gave a collective gasp. Gwen fell to the ground, not being able to take it anymore. Troy tried to comfort her and she held him close to her chest. Morgana knelt down beside her, whispering soothing words to her friend.

Arthur looked his father straight in the eye. He never thought he would feel as furious as he did at that moment. His daemon barely suppressed a snarl, but despite that, Krola managed to hold back and stayed at Arthur’s side. “The nerve of him!” She said in outrage.

“You have _no right,”_ Arthur shot back at his father.

“Do not test my patience, Arthur,” Uther reprimanded him.

The king waved his hand at Merlin who was lying pitifully on the floor; his eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain, his face in a tight grimace.

Arthur hated being put in this situation, but he knew there was little else he could do for now. The only small comfort he had was the certainty that the potion would not kill Merlin.

His father, Arthur was sure of it, would want the satisfaction of public execution with Merlin tied to the pyre, the flames lapping at him, the smoke suffocating, _choking_ him…as everyone watched.

So he sat down beside Merlin and he reached out to raise his chin, so that Merlin would look at him.

“Merlin, open your eyes. You have to drink this,” Arthur told him softly.

Merlin opened his eyes reluctantly to see the potion-filled vial that Arthur held in front of him.

“Why?” He asked, sounding lost and confused.

“You have to… I don’t know what it is, but you have to. My father has ordered it. Everyone’s watching. There’s nothing to be done. I’m sorry.”

Merlin looked at the torn, conflicted look on Arthur’s face. He knew just by the sound of the prince’s voice that Arthur hated being forced into this.

He had no doubt that the potion was meant to hurt him. The look of anger on King Uther’s face proved that Merlin would be getting no mercy from the king.

And then Krola beseeched of him. “ _Please,_ Merlin.”

“All right,” Merlin said in a whisper. He could barely speak. The sharp pain he felt at his daemon being touched by a cruel hand was tearing at him. Only one person was allowed to touch Zlota. Anyone else and Merlin wished he could die right then and there. It hurt him so much.

Arthur found it hard to see the trusting gaze in Merlin’s eyes. He didn’t feel he deserved it.

Trying to keep his hand steady, Arthur opened the vial and held it in front of the other’s mouth. He tipped the vial -- Merlin’s mouth opened slightly allowing entrance – and the first drops of liquid touched Merlin’s tongue. Hesitantly, Merlin drank the potion as Arthur gave it to him. Krola appeared restless as she watched.

But then,

“Stop! Please, stop!” Merlin cried. He tried to push the vial away from his mouth before Arthur could continue further.

“Merlin?” Arthur pressed gently.

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t want it!”

“Stop coddling him! Just get on with it. We don’t have all day!” Uther said with great impatience when he saw that Arthur had stopped abruptly, listening to Merlin’s pleas.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked him, ignoring his father’s words.

But Merlin only shook his head again, tears silently falling down.

“I know what the potion is,” He told Arthur.

“What is it?” Arthur questioned, desperately wanting to know.

“Arthur, he looks ill,” Krola told him as she peered at Merlin.

Uther’s already low patience was waning. “Damnit, Arthur! Stop talking to him and get him to drink the whole thing! I am growing weary.”

“I have no choice. It won’t kill you – just try not to think about it,” Arthur tried to reassure him, but to his ears, he sounded more anxious than anything else.

Krola held a piercing look with Merlin. He let out a small sigh and nodded.

“Follow my lead, Arthur,” Merlin whispered urgently.

“What?”

“Keep it safe for me. Morgana will know what to do,” He continued on.

Though Arthur didn’t think Merlin was making things any clearer.

“Merlin, I don’t understand--”

He shook his head in response and resigned to what would happen; Merlin grabbed the vial with his own hand and downed the rest of the potion.

Arthur saw Merlin’s eyes flash gold, briefly, before he leaned toward Arthur and kissed him deeply on the lips.

And then Merlin’s eyes rolled back, revealing the whites of his eyes, and he fell back, his head bumping against the hard floor as he did so. He was unconscious.

Arthur felt something shift inside of him. Something had entered his body, he was sure of it.

He barely noticed his father turning to the court physician, his rat daemon on his shoulder, and asking him, “And the boy’s magic? Is it gone for good?”

The court physician nodded. “Without a body to contain the magic, the magic will not be able to survive. It is gone, sire.”

“Then he will not escape.”

The people in the room started chattering amongst themselves – trading thoughts on what had just happened.

Only Morgana and Gwen remained silent and somber, the former sending a hard look the king’s way.

Arthur knew, without a doubt, that the physician was wrong.

To think they thought they could thwart Merlin so easily…

As the guards took Merlin away to the dungeons, Arthur began formulating a plan to save him.

Merlin’s magic thrummed with power, with purpose within Arthur’s veins. He just needed to let it out. And for that, as Merlin had told him, he would require Morgana’s assistance.

~ * ~

“Merlin gave you his magic,” were the first words out of Morgana’s mouth upon her entering Arthur’s chambers. Tiresias, her butterfly daemon, was in her hair -- attached to a dark lock as if he were a hair ornament.

Once Morgana had closed the door, Tiresias left her side to fly around the room, teasing Krola as he flew around her. The wolf daemon looked annoyed as her sharp eyes watched the butterfly.

Arthur nodded at her. He drank from his cup before speaking. “He said you could help me with that. I can feel it inside of me, but I can’t bloody use it. No matter how hard I try…”

Morgana hummed. She smiled at him indulgently as if she were looking upon a small child.

She sat down across from him, the table between them.

“Why, Arthur, did you really expect to be able to use it? Do you not recall what Gaius revealed to you about the circumstances of your birth?”

Arthur gave a long, put-upon sigh. He felt frustrated. He nodded, rolling his eyes. “Yes, but I thought, maybe, it would work for a small spell.”

Morgana just looked at him.

“Tiny. Like making an apple float. But – nothing. Nothing,” He confided in clear frustration, his hand whipping the air to show his irritation.

“As well it should be. Any magic inside you is under a deep sleep. You can hold magic, but that is all,” Morgana reminded him much to his chagrin.

Arthur tapped his fingers on the table, leaning back in his chair. He appeared bored – having heard this once before.

“Must you spoil it for me, Morgana?” He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m still rather miffed at the ridiculous explanation for Krola’s fur color,” he said, frowning.

Krola sniffed at that. She clawed at him to express her displeasure.

“You’re not being nice,” His wolf daemon informed him in an imperious manner. Arthur sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Krola looked satisfied at the apology. With somewhat feigned disinterest, she resumed her watch of Morgana’s butterfly daemon as Tiresias flew about. A moment later, Tiresias changed to his main form, a black swan.

Morgana gave him a stern look. “It is not ridiculous. I’m sorry, Arthur, if you think it makes you less of a man. It’s the truth. It was powerful magic that brought about your birth and it was only expected that your daemon, when settled, would reflect that. It is no laughing matter that magic corrupts. The very fact that it doesn’t corrupt you, doesn’t affect you – is extraordinary. That the magic could just be in your blood and you’re not a captive of its corrupting potential.”

“It hasn’t corrupted Merlin,” Arthur pointed out.

“Merlin has you. You give his magic purpose, a meaning. You make it good.” She told him resolutely. She shook her head, and then smiled. Looking at him directly, she spoke with a kind of determined fierceness in her voice. “He’s lucky to have you, Arthur. The magic-stripping potion would have taken away his magic permanently. And if he dared to transfer his magic to anyone but you, that very person would be dead by now. Which is why Uther believes the potion has done its work. No one would expect a foolish, desperate effort to save one’s magic – at the cost of their lover’s life.”

“But my father knows what led to my birth. It’s a surprise he didn’t foresee the possibility.”

Morgana laughed a cheerless laugh. “It’s fortunate that Uther was too blinded by vengeance to even consider that chance.”

Arthur nodded. “There’s that,” Then he looked at her expectantly. “Well, you can help me, right? I haven’t a clue how to return Merlin’s magic to its rightful place.”

Morgana shook her head. “That’s the easy part. His magic is inextricably drawn to him – when the timing is right, the magic will be returned without any action on your part. What needs to be done now is to awaken his magic from its slumber so you can use it to get him out of the dungeons.”

“So his magic will be under my command?”

Arthur was conflicted as an excitement built within him to be able to use magic. He had seen Merlin perform magic and he couldn’t resist feeling a sense of awe at seeing all the tricks that magic could do. But yet, Arthur knew it was wrong to feel this way. He felt guilty, almost a kind of shame for getting the chance to use magic. Especially when Merlin was lying, miserable and without magic, in the dungeons. So with that thought, Arthur tried not to let the thrill of anticipation overcome him. He had to focus on the task at hand.

And that was saving Merlin. That was all that mattered.

Morgana confirmed his inquiry. “Short of harming Merlin, yes. Anything you require to engineer his escape, you will have Merlin’s magic supporting you.”

Arthur nodded. “All right. What do I have to do?”

Morgana left her seat and she directed him to stand in front of her. Arthur did so, and then she placed her fingers on his temples.

The color of her eyes changed from green to gold as she spoke the words of the spell. “Áwæcne bealucræftas.”

When she saw Arthur’s eyes flash gold, Morgana knew the spell had worked. Merlin’s magic had awoken inside Arthur.

Morgana then turned to the fireplace and vanquished the fire magically.

She nodded at Arthur. “Just to test that you can use magic, conjure fire in the hearth. You just have to think it, will it to happen. Picture bright, hot, hissing flames within your mind’s eye and the magic will do the rest.”

“Wait – what about the words, incantations you speak to do a spell? Isn’t that necessary?”

Morgana looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, “It is the proper way to do magic, true, but we don’t have the time for that right now. Magic can be done both ways, albeit it is a bit harder to perform intricate spells without words – unless you’re a master at it, of course.”

Morgana pointed toward the fireplace, beckoning Arthur to conjure the fire.

Arthur thought of a blazing fire, flames leaping up from the wood in the fireplace.

And he opened his eyes and found that it had worked. The fire was just as he imagined it.

Krola looked up at him in astonishment. Arthur could swear that he saw his daemon’s eyes shift color from silver to gold and back again for a moment.

“Very good. I’m glad it worked,” Morgana said, looking pleased.

But there was something else that Arthur needed to know.

“Morgana,” He addressed her. She looked at him, waiting for him to speak. “I heard whispers in my head while I was picturing the fire… It sounded like – I’m not sure how that is even possible…”

“Merlin? You thought you heard Merlin?”

Arthur nodded slowly.

“I wasn’t expecting that, but I wouldn’t put it past Merlin to accomplish such a feat. I’m guessing that there’s a kind of spell memory ingrained into his magic. Merlin’s magic is using that memory – of Merlin saying spells – to do the conjuring.”

Arthur raised his eyebrow. “So I’ll hear Merlin in my head when I do any kind of magic?”

“As long as his magic is within you, then, yes. This is a good thing, actually. It will allow you to do more complex magic if need be, though sneaking down to the dungeons probably won’t require complicated spells. It’s extra support, at the very least.”

“Merlin—in my head, Morgana. That’s a little too much.”

To Arthur’s exasperation, she looked more bemused than anything else. “Well, you might as well learn to deal with the voice. You’re stuck with it until you rescue Merlin.”

No one spoke for a long moment. A somewhat uncomfortable silence fell upon the room as the gravity of the situation nearly stifled them.

Arthur broke the silence. He tried to plead with her. “Morgana… you and Guinevere should come with us – Merlin and I. You two shouldn’t stay here. And if my father finds out about you, you’ll be in danger.”

Morgana shook her head. “No, it is more important – much more important that you two are away from Camelot. You and Merlin will be too occupied with taking care of each other to worry about us delicate ladies,” She smirked at him.

“Really, Morgana. There is nothing delicate about you or Guinevere. But I mean what I say.”

“And I mean what I say. I will be all right. You know how Merlin is – he’ll feel responsible for all of us and he’ll wear himself thin trying to look after us all,” she shook her head. “No, it is better that you’ll be his main concern. And, of course, you’ll watch after him in turn.”

Morgana went up to him and she kissed his cheek. “Good luck, Arthur. Look after Merlin. That is all hope for. That will make me happy.”

Arthur held her hands, cupping them inside his. He looked into her eyes. “You’ve been like a sister to me since I was a child. I wouldn’t feel right leaving you here. You’re already in danger simply by being in Camelot.”

“I will be fine. Do not worry about me, Arthur Pendragon. I will not have it. I promise you I can look after myself. I have Gwen. She will be enough.”

Arthur sighed and, with reluctance, he let go of her hands. He could see by the stubborn look in Morgana’s eyes that there was no use arguing the matter with her any further.

“I will surely see you again, Arthur,” Morgana said resolutely.

And then, with Tiresias on her shoulder, she left Arthur’s room without looking back.

It was only when she was back in her chambers that she let the tears fall.

 _“Arthur must never find out. It would hurt him,”_ Morgana spoke silently.

She knew that Merlin would hear her. That he would surely be dead by now if he had transferred all his magic to Arthur. A tiny bit was left inside Merlin, and even then, silent communication did not require heavy magic.

 _“I know,”_ She heard Merlin’s weak reply in her mind.

~ * ~

When Merlin had been placed in the cell, the guards had the audacity to deny him a shirt, taking it away from him, and leaving him only wearing his breeches, naked from the waist up. Not even the small bit of magic he managed to capture for his own sanity could warm him. And he didn’t dare use it too much for fear of what would happen when his magic run out. Merlin was certain that it wouldn’t come to that though, but he didn’t want to test it out just to see the outcome. It was too great a risk.

He could not help feeling startled when his dungeon cell door opened. He looked up to find one of the guards had entered his cell.

The guard did not speak right away. He just looked at Merlin, dissecting him with his eyes. The guard’s burly dog daemon was making a play at appearing intimidating. Merlin was certain that Zlota – who was presently holed up somewhere because Uther was a right bastard – could intimidate better than the guard’s daemon.

“What do you want?” Merlin asked impatiently.

The guard only approached him with an ill-intentioned look upon his face.

Merlin tried to shift away from him, but the other man grabbed his arms to hold him in place.

He looked down to Merlin’s neck.

“Where did those marks come from, sorcerer?” The guard demanded as he ran his hand over blemished skin.

The way he said the word ‘sorcerer’ it sounded more like, ‘scum of the earth’ to Merlin’s ears.

Merlin looked him clear in the face and he shot back, “It shouldn’t take too much imagination to figure it out. That is, if you have any in the first place.”

The marks were left over from last time with Arthur – he never could quite resist nipping at Merlin's neck, leaving noticeable marks behind. And then he always managed to convince Merlin not to wear his neckerchief afterwards ( _possessive prat_ ). Anyway, Merlin didn’t know or even care why the man was wasting his time asking him pointless questions.

The man’s face twisted into something ugly. “How dare you speak to me in that way, you foul creature.”

Merlin shrugged. “I do not really care. I am to be executed. I have nothing to be scared of anymore.”

“You’re a fool. You’re not frightened of death?”

“No,” Merlin said firmly. “I’m sure there are worse things that eclipse death.”

The guard snorted at him. “So you admit you’re the prince’s who--”

But the man couldn’t continue. He sounded as if he were choking, his hands grabbing frantically at his throat.

Merlin saw Gwen come up behind him.

“Hello Gwen. How are you?” Merlin said pleasantly, ignoring the guard’s choked cries.

“Oh well, you know,” Gwen said with a shrug. She was carrying Troy in her arms.

Then she turned her attention to the fallen guard and told him sternly, “If you don’t wish to continue choking to death, you will leave us. I want some time alone with the prisoner. Understand?”

The guard nodded quickly and left the cell in a hurry. Once he had exited, he stopped choking and he gasped, breathing in the air again greedily.

“Morgana says hello,” Gwen said lightly as she went to sit beside Merlin in the cell.

He looked at her, feeling cautious. “There are still guards outside of my cell. We can’t have them hear us.”

“There’s an invisible barrier dividing us from them. At least that’s what Morgana told me. She’s getting better with her magic,” Gwen smiled, looking proud.

Merlin shook his head. Of course, he should have sensed her magic. He could see something shimmering in front of the bars – it could only be the barrier. The barrier was a trick that misled anyone who crossed its path. Anyone curious to look in on them or eavesdrop would suddenly get distracted and turn their attention away from the cell.

It wasn’t an easy spell, especially from a distance, but he knew how well Morgana was progressing in her magic. Merlin had been the one teaching her after all.

“Morgana is in her chambers, scrying. That’s how she saw the guard and she sent me right away,” Gwen explained.

Troy left her lap to go to Merlin. He took the small dog in his arms and set him on his lap. He started petting him as Gwen told him all that had happened while Merlin was stuck in the dungeons without a scrap of news to tide him over.

Troy then spoke, “Tell him about Arthur, Gwen.”

“Did Morgana help him?” Merlin asked.

Gwen nodded. “Your magic is awake inside him now. He has it at his disposal when he’ll come to get you out of this wretched place.”

“Did he say when that would be?”

Gwen bit her lip. She shook her head. “No, Arthur didn’t. But I’m certain it’ll be sometime later tonight, before dawn. As soon as possible, of course, I would think. The king plans to execute you in two days’ time, so that allows us some extra time.”

“I don’t know why the king doesn’t execute me now. I think he just wants me to suffer before he sees me executed. It’s so frustrating waiting here with nothing but my thoughts to comfort me. Not that my thoughts are at all comforting.”

Troy licked his hand affectionately. “Everything will be all right,” he reassured Merlin.

“Arthur will come,” Gwen said firmly, trying to instill the belief into him with the sheer force of her will.

Merlin sighed. He let Troy go as he went to lie down. He let his head drop on to Gwen’s lap, and she stroked Merlin’s dark locks while he closed his eyes and tried to think of being in another place, a place where he was at peace and everything was golden and right.

And Arthur was by his side.

“Merlin?” Gwen spoke softly interrupting his musings.

“Yes?” He opened his eyes and turned his face to look up at her.

“I understand if you wouldn’t wish to tell me, but I was wondering how it feels for you – without your magic? Does it hurt terribly?”

She set a concerned gaze on him.

“It’s something I can’t quite get used to. I hope I never have to go through this again. But the bond I have with my magic is still there, still strong. That does help. It feels like I used to have two hearts, you know? And now I’m missing one and it’s difficult to be without that heart, but I can manage it. I have no other choice.”

“Oh, Merlin. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, I’ll be fine. I’m just glad Arthur has my magic and I can trust him with it.”

Gwen smiled down at him. “Arthur knows how important your magic is to you. There is no doubt how much he cares for you. He’ll do what is right.”

“Yes,” Merlin answered quietly. “Thank you, Gwen. You’re a good friend.”

He could almost forget the promise he had made to himself. The promise that was the one truth he kept from Arthur now.

~ * ~

 **Previously:  
**  
“Will either of you explain what is going on? And why you stopped time?” The other Merlin asked.

When Arthur only gave a mock-yawn, Merlin concluded it was up to him to explain the situation to uh…himself.

This was weird.

And Arthur was an unhelpful prat.

Nothing new there, at least.

 **Present:**

Merlin raised his hands to indicate he meant no harm. “We’re your friends. We don’t mean any harm,” He said softly, trying to sound reassuring.

Which, he supposed was a bit pointless because if this other Merlin was an alternate version of him, then he’d see  
through him.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, after all.

“Why do you look like me?” The other Merlin demanded.

Merlin could see the other’s eyes shifting color, somewhere between blue and gold. He had to act fast before his other self saw need to use magic against him. He really didn’t fancy using magic against himself.

There was something fundamentally wrong with that, really.

Arthur stepped in then. He sighed, rubbing his forehead before he spoke. “Look, let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

“Arthur, don’t you dare,” Merlin warned.

He only grinned at him. And then the other Merlin’s eyes widened as he felt a pull coming from within him.

“I only took a little bit of magic,” Arthur said in exasperation as the other Merlin looked about ready to faint.

The other Merlin gasped. “You _know_? About my magic?”

“Well, of course I do,” Arthur answered matter-of-factly. “I wouldn’t be in this situation if I didn’t know.”

Merlin tried to resist the urge to strangle the blond. “Thanks, Arthur. Now, would you please just give it back to him? There’s no point in doing this.”

Arthur shook his head. “Not until you finish your explanation. I want to make sure he doesn’t get any funny ideas.”

He groaned, giving Arthur a hard stare that the other was not paying much attention to. “Really, I could handle myself – this is ridiculous, you know. Sometimes I think you’re a little too fond of this ability of yours.”

“What situation? What ability? I don’t understand,” the other Merlin spoke, his confusion clear on his face.

He was now looking a little better as he got over the initial shock of having some of his magic snatched away from him.

Merlin turned back to his other self and he explained, “We’re from another world. We fled our world because we’re on the run. Arthur has been exiled from our Camelot going on a year now.”

“What? Why?” The other Merlin uttered in surprise.

“It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out,” Arthur snapped. He sighed when Merlin shot him a “did you really just say that?” look. Arthur deflated and when he next spoke, his voice was noticeably conciliatory in tone. “No matter what, I don’t regret my decision. I would never have allowed myself to stand by and let Merlin be executed.”

Arthur spoke silently to Merlin, trying to smooth over the situation. _“I didn’t mean what you thought I--”_

Arthur could hear the tired sigh from Merlin in his head. He interrupted him before Arthur could finish. _“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Arthur.”  
_  
Arthur felt a wall come down in his mind, effectively cutting him off from Merlin. But this shut down had happened before – Merlin would come to his senses and reopen the silent communication channels. He always did.

Out loud, Merlin continued on, “So you see, it was only time we left our world to find a safer one. A world where we do not have to fight for our lives every time the king’s men find us. We didn’t expect to find other versions of ourselves here, but there’s nothing to be done about that. It is rather jarring, but we’ll just have to get used to it.”

Merlin shot a glare at Arthur who looked a little too enthused about taking a good look at this world’s Arthur – who was still frozen in time. Merlin didn’t think it appropriate to check out another person when they were completely unable to defend themselves. Not that Arthur would do anything foolish, of course, but sometimes Merlin wondered about him. The year they had been in exile had changed him – both of them – for better or for worse, he wasn’t sure yet.

The other Merlin shook him out of his dark thoughts. “But – how did you get here? I didn’t even know there were other worlds, much less a way to travel from one to another.”

“Another of Arthur’s special abilities – or responsibility, really. We know a way to travel to different worlds… and that’s how we ended up here.”

The other Merlin looked to Krola who was by Arthur’s side and he asked, “And the white wolf? It’s not just an animal, right? I could tell it’s something more than that.”

Merlin smiled. He was glad that his alternate self was perceptive enough to see that. He had a good feeling that the other Merlin would be useful to have on their side.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded. “That’s--”

“Excuse me, that’s my daemon, Merlin,” Arthur interrupted. Then he turned to the other Merlin. “The wolf is my daemon. Her name is Krolewska, Krola for short. Daemons are souls in our world – they are outside of our bodies rather than inside.”

“And they take on animal forms,” Merlin added. “My daemon is a bird -- a phoenix. She goes by Zlocisty, Zlota for short. She’s flying overhead at the moment.”

“Oh,” the other Merlin said, not quite sure how to take all this information. The idea of a soul outside someone’s body seemed odd. And he also thought it was rather worrying – to have one’s soul exposed like that outside of one’s body for anyone to see, for anyone to harm if they wanted to.

“Anyway, I think we should go inside, don’t you agree? I’m not adverse to my chambers,” Arthur said, feeling quite bored with being in the courtyard.

It had been a good while since he had seen his rooms. Despite the fact that it wasn’t truly his chambers, the point of the matter was…there was no point to it. He could use a good lie down – after that fighting, he was beginning to feel his muscles ache. And this was as good an opportunity as any to investigate this other Arthur’s rooms… test out the bed and all that.

“It’s not your room, Arthur,” Merlin reminded him.

“Good point,” He said, but then, “Also, I don’t care,” he smirked at Merlin.

And with that, Arthur turned to the other Merlin. “Well then, Merlin’s copy, you can be our guide. Come on then.”

“I’m not a copy,” the other Merlin said defensively.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I was making a joke. But really, I want to see my room.”

Merlin only shook his head as Arthur grabbed the other Merlin’s arm and pulled him along in the direction of the castle steps. Krola went with the pair – Merlin could tell she felt awkward around the other Merlin like she didn’t know what to make of him.

“Zlota!” Merlin called. The phoenix came down from the sky toward him.

Merlin was surprised to see Zlota combusting into flames before she reached the ground. His daemon only did that when she had urgent news or was sending warning…

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold in response and he tried to stop himself from turning into fire along with Zlota. He almost managed it – his arms turned into near white flames before he assumed control and forced his arms back to their normal state.

“What is it, Zlota?” Merlin asked. “Is there something dangerous here?”

Back to normal as well, Zlota stayed in flight -- making sure she was level with Merlin’s face before she spoke in a rush, “Don’t you feel it, Merlin? Sense it?”

Merlin was confused. “Sense what? I don’t--”

Then he sensed something so familiar, he was surprised he hadn’t caught it before.

“But, it can’t be. It’s only wishful thinking…” He breathed out.

“The ramparts, Merlin. We should go there.”

“No. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But we must!” Zlota cried urgently. “We must see!”

Merlin shook his head. “Morgana is alive in this world. I can feel it,” he announced solemnly.

“But we don’t have much time!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“I don’t want to see it happen, all right? Whatever it is – it’s best left alone.”

“Think of the information it could provide us,” Zlota tried to persuade him.

Merlin stood there, silent and thinking. However much he hated to admit it, Zlota was right.

 _“Arthur, I’ll meet you two in your chambers,”_ Merlin spoke silently to Arthur, reopening the channels quickly.

 _“Merlin, what’s going on?”_ Arthur asked, wondering. Merlin could just see him turning to look back at him.

 _“I need to check something out. I’ll be fine.”_

 _“What is it, Merlin?”_ He asked again with more force this time.

 _“I’ll tell you later.”_

 _“Merlin…”_

But Merlin had already disappeared, the conversation ending with his departure.

~ * ~


	3. The Wolf and the Phoenix (3/7)

**Title:** The Wolf and the Phoenix (3/7)  
 **Author:** dk323  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Word count:** 3,343 (this chapter)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Spoilers:** Up to 2x04.  
 **Disclaimer:** The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The “His Dark Materials” books are property of Philip Pullman. No money is being made.  
 **Summary:**  
There’s another world where Arthur is an exiled prince for committing treason against the crown, for stopping Merlin’s execution, for not letting the sorcerer be killed to further the king’s blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the king’s men catch up to them.

It’s lucky that Excalibur can do more than strike men down in battle…

 **Chapter 3:** Merlin receives a warning and realizes that he can’t hold off on telling Arthur about what he fears most. They spend some time in the Shadow World, where spirits of the dead dwell…

 **A/N:** A bit of a His Dark Materials crossover where Arthur and Merlin both have daemons (their souls are outside of their bodies and are in animal form).

  
Previously:

 _“Arthur, I’ll meet you two in your chambers,”_ Merlin spoke silently to Arthur, reopening the channels quickly.

 _“Merlin, what’s going on?”_ Arthur asked, wondering. Merlin could just see him turning to look back at him.

 _“I need to check something out. I’ll be fine.”  
_  
 _“What is it, Merlin?”_ He asked again with more force this time.

 _“I’ll tell you later.”_

 _“Merlin…”  
_  
But Merlin had already disappeared, the conversation ending with his departure.

~ * ~

Now:

Arthur tried to hide his concern for Merlin. Whatever he was up to, it didn’t sound good.

Best not dwell on it now. He’d just have to wait to yell at Merlin later for being evasive with him. Merlin should know how important it was to be honest with him. Especially after all they’ve been through…

He was taken out of his thoughts by this world’s Merlin conjuring swirls of light in front of him.

“Are you trying to blind me?” Arthur muttered, waving at the string of lights, but the other Merlin managed to bend them away from him, escaping his assault.

“Sorry – just… it’s nice, that’s all,” the other Merlin said in a non-committal tone.

Arthur had a feeling as to what the other Merlin was implying. He had to set the situation straight before this Merlin got any ideas…

He stopped walking with Merlin doing the same, turning to Arthur with an inquiring look in his eyes.

Looking at him directly, Arthur spoke firmly, “Let me make myself very clear, you will not tell anyone here who doesn’t already know about your magic until Merlin and I tell you to. The repercussions are too high a price to pay.”

The other Merlin gave him a stiff look. He looked defiant. “This is _my world_. I’m allowed to make my own decisions. And certainly, nothing bad happened when you found out, did it? If I could just tell Arthur--”

“No, do you understand me? You can tell no one. True, I accepted Merlin’s secret and I kept it secret. I can see that this world is much different than ours though. How long have you been in Camelot?”

The other Merlin looked at him oddly, miffed by the sudden question. He shrugged. “A little over a year now.”

“I knew about Merlin’s secret even before he was my manservant. The fight in the market place? I saw him do magic – I knew my eyes were not deceiving me. I managed to corner him a few weeks after he was given the position of my manservant. And after a few words, I convinced him to tell me the truth.”

Merlin stared wide-eyed at him. “You’ve known for _that_ long?”

“For about two years now, yes. I don’t know how different your Arthur is, but I’m sure in some ways, he and I are both alike. Trust me, Merlin, if it’s already been a year and you haven’t confided in him yet – he’s not going to take it well. I certainly don’t like secrets being withheld from me. Do you understand now?”

He nodded, though he still didn’t appear completely persuaded. Arthur wondered if he could get Merlin to talk to him.

The two of them resumed walking. The other Merlin asked, “What went wrong? How did your Merlin nearly get executed?”

“It was accidental, or more like Merlin – I’m sure you’re familiar with it – being an absolute idiot and playing the hero.”

“And --?”

“My father was in the room.”

From the comprehending look on Merlin’s face, Arthur knew he had made his point clear. “Oh,” Merlin only said.

“Yes, well. Merlin and I came here to seek a safe place, but this depends on your cooperation. If you listen to us, then we will cause you no trouble. We might let you reveal your secret to Arthur, but it has to be done our way, understood?”

Merlin nodded. “All right. I’ll cooperate.”

“Good,” Arthur said approvingly.

The other Merlin “What is your ability – the one your Merlin was talking about? Something to do with stealing magic?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘stealing’ exactly. I can hold magic – actually, taking magic from a sorcerer or any magic user is a recent development. I’ve been practicing. I didn’t even know I could do that trick until I was in exile. The skill became useful when I was up against a sorcerer and Merlin couldn’t be there. It’s a good way to hold off the sorcerer for a little while. It’s akin to a power drain, I suppose.”

“Can you use the magic you take?” The other Merlin questioned.

He shook his head. “No. Merlin or someone else of magic must speak the spell to awaken the magic. I leave the magic tricks to Merlin.”

“Do you think Arthur – the one in this world – could have the same ability?” The other Merlin asked, interested.

Arthur shook his head. “I honestly doubt it. This is a different world – if he did have the ability that would defeat the purpose of ‘a different world.’”

“You never know for sure,” Merlin pointed out.

They were nearing Arthur’s chambers as they turned a corner.

“I don’t think so,” Arthur shook his head. Then he gave a slightly apologetic look to Merlin. “Look, I’ll give you back the magic I took from you. And you can tell me about this world…”

“All right,” Merlin said slowly.

Arthur nodded and then his eyes flashed gold before he willed the magic out of his body. The other Merlin let out a small gasp as he felt the small bit of magic return to him.

“Thank you,” he uttered gratefully.

“It was nothing,” Arthur shrugged.

“What do you want to know about my world?”

“Anything. Everything. Start with Arthur. I’m sure you have a lot to say about him. I doubt that would change.”

The other Merlin grinned at him. “See, that’s the problem. Always think a lot of yourself.”

Arthur couldn’t help rolling his eyes. If there was any doubt, there was none now. This other Merlin was definitely Merlin – daemon or no.

He waved his hand. “Continue on then. I’m listening.”

~ * ~

Standing a few feet away from her – his world’s Morgana for he could see Tiresias in butterfly form clinging to her hair --, Merlin almost couldn’t bear to watch as she walked to the edge of the ramparts.

“Morgana!” Merlin shouted, hoping in vain to get her to stop.

But it was no use. As she turned to him, Merlin could see through her – she was a ghost.

“How did you follow us here, Morgana? Please, I need to know,” he pleaded with her desperately.

She had a strangely peaceful look on her face. She spoke softly, though her words rung clear and loud to Merlin’s ears. “I saved myself.”

“Gwen said you fell…why?”

“You know why,” Morgana told him. “I saved myself,” she repeated again, more earnestly this time.

“Is there anything – any information you can give me?” Merlin asked.

She sighed and she neared him then until she stood before him.

“Oh, Merlin,” She said tenderly. Morgana placed her translucent hand over Merlin’s cheek. “Save yourself.”

Before Merlin could say or do anything, he saw Morgana at the edge of the battlements and she fell forward – her arms spread wide. It was almost as if she were flying.

He turned away then. He didn’t want to be there anymore. This was only a ghostly reenactment after all. Feeling a shift in the spell that stopped time, Merlin reinforced the spell to keep it going.

If Morgana had made sure to follow them here, somehow, then Merlin knew that he should pay heed to her words.

He recalled what the knight had said to him…what Uther had planned for him, for any sorcerers to come across his path. Merlin had tried to forget about it – favoring escaping to another world to avoid it all together -- until Morgana’s warning forced the memory to the forefront of his mind:

 _“The king has discovered a way to subdue daemons of sorcerers. Make the sorcerers do his bidding that way. Take away their free will.”  
_  
Merlin left the ramparts, walking this time, with Zlota in firefly form buzzing around him.

As long as they were in this world – this blessedly daemon-free world – then Merlin was safe.

He knew that he had to tell Arthur now. He couldn’t keep this to himself. The burden was too heavy to bear alone.

~ * ~

When Merlin entered the other Arthur’s chambers, he found his Arthur lying casually on the bed. Krola was on the bed as well, her head resting on Arthur’s lap with him stroking her idly. Seated in a chair nearby, this world’s Merlin concentrated on polishing armour. Arthur had been saying something to him, but he stopped abruptly upon seeing the new arrival.

“Merlin, what is going on?” He asked right away, recalling his sudden need to leave.

The other Merlin looked up at his alternate self with a questioning gaze, but he did not speak.

“I’ll tell you soon, Arthur,” Merlin promised, then he turned to his other self and informed him, “I have to end the time spell. I can return you to where you were before. If you could make sure your Arthur doesn’t suspect anything…”

The other Merlin nodded, setting aside the armour. “I’ll do my best. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Merlin gave his Arthur a pointed look. “What did you tell him?”

The other Merlin spoke before Arthur could utter a word. “It’s my decision,” he said firmly. “You two could use me. I know it. I’m willing to help.”

Merlin exchanged a look with Arthur who simply shrugged in response.

“An ally is better than an enemy,” he said while Krola gazed at Merlin piercingly, her silver eyes shining.

Turning back to his other self, Merlin told him, sounding grateful. “Thank you then. I – we – appreciate it. We’ll meet with you again soon.”

“Where are you going to go? If you’re seen…”

“Don’t worry about that. Arthur has his sword – it can cut into different worlds, so we can go to one of them if we need to. And I know some obscuring spells that’ll draw attention away from us.”

“Wait – what do you mean, ‘cut’?”

Arthur climbed off of the bed and then he removed his sword from its sheath. “It’s this sword here – I’ll show you how it works sometime.”

The other Merlin looked at the sword curiously. “This sword – does it have a name?”

“Excalibur,” Merlin informed him.

“There’s an Excalibur in this world, you know. I threw the sword into a lake to hide it.”

“…you _threw_ Excalibur into a _lake_?” Arthur repeated in disbelief. “Please tell me it was a magical lake.”

His Merlin let out a laugh at which Arthur appeared quite offended at.

The other Merlin stared at both of them, uncertain what to make of their reaction. “It’s a magical sword, isn’t it? It may have different properties in relation to your sword, but the Dragon breathed his fire on it. Excalibur can kill anything – living and undead.”

Arthur just looked at him like he had told him the sky was blue and how exceptional that was. All in all, he seemed distinctly unimpressed.

Merlin spoke up quickly before Arthur could start arguing how much better his Excalibur was. “All right! The sword should be fine in a lake. Dragon’s fire is magical after all and does hold a certain level of protection,” he conceded. “And let’s not turn this into a pissing contest, Arthur. It really isn’t the time.”

Arthur held his tongue, though he still looked mildly annoyed.

Merlin turned to his other self and said, “I’m going to send you back now, Merlin.”

The other Merlin stood up and nodded. “I’m ready.”

Merlin placed his hand over his brow and before he said the words of the spell, he told him, “Remember the words I say, all right? This is a basic teleportation spell, which I’m sure you’ll be able to learn and manage on your own with some practice.”

“But what if something goes wrong when I try it out?”

“If you say the words wrong, then nothing will happen. Believe me, I practiced this incantation and nothing went awry before I succeeded in the teleportation.”

Still appearing a bit uncertain, the other Merlin nodded warily. Merlin spoke the words of the spell, and a moment later, his other self had disappeared.

“You could have just physically taken him back to the courtyard,” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin shook his head and then his eyes glowed gold, time unfreezing itself as he summoned his magic to end the spell.

He released a deep breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. A sense of relief swept over him. “I can’t keep the spell going on forever. It takes too much out of me. Reinforcing it just worsens the toll it takes on me. Sending him back magically was faster.”

Arthur relented then. Merlin was the magic expert after all. Who was he to argue with him on that matter?

“We have to go to the Shadow World, Arthur. It’s our best option.”

“Can’t you just teleport us away?”

“Even so, we would still be sneaking around. I just don’t know if I have the energy now to keep an invisibility spell going. I don’t want to be disturbed. _Please_ , Arthur,” he pleaded with him.  

“Fine, all right. Though the less time we spend in that world, the better. It’s not an ideal place to stay.”

“Just make an opening, will you? I know it’s not perfect, but it’s an empty world...and we’ll be in the same room too. If the mirror property works from this world, that is.”

“An empty world where spirits like to visit once in a while – that’s as far from ideal as you can get.”

Merlin didn’t answer him, only deigning to roll his eyes slightly at his complaints.

But still, Arthur made the opening and they entered the other world, Krola following after him and Zlota hidden under Merlin’s shirt. Once they had all come through the opening, Arthur sealed the window with his fingers, closing them off from the daemon-less world.

The grey mist masked the floor beneath them as they walked across it – the room in this world was almost the same as the one they had just left. The main difference being the grey, colorless tone of the chambers, which made the room appear rather dreary and sad.

Merlin went to rest on the bed, identical to the one in the other Arthur’s bedchambers. Zlota flew away from him, shifting back into a phoenix as she took flight.

Arthur sighed as he laid down on the bed beside Merlin who shifted a bit to make room for him.

“What’s going on, Merlin? Where were you?”

“I saw Morgana’s ghost,” he started quietly, his eyes over-bright as he looked directly at Arthur. “She came to warn me.”

Arthur gripped his shoulder to comfort him in some small way. “What was the warning?”

“When we were attacked by those knights, back in our world, one of them told me about Uther’s plans. He has found a way to subdue sorcerers’ daemons so that the sorcerers are under his control. I suppose that way--”

“--he would have little to fear if he has sorcerers following his orders…” Arthur finished, the thought setting him ill at ease. From the floor, Krola growled unhappily.

Merlin nodded sullenly. “Morgana wanted to remind me of the danger. I believe she killed herself to prevent the king from using her. I imagine that she couldn't bear to tell Gwen about what the king had planned -- it was too painful for her. That’s why I wanted to leave our world. And I can’t go back. I don't think I have the strength to.”

“Merlin, we can’t stay here. I have to return to reclaim the throne, to be the king who the people of Camelot need. I can’t abandon them,” Arthur said fervently, the determination clear in his words. Merlin looked away from him, releasing a shaky sigh. He knew Arthur would say that. “I know you’re scared, but I promise you, as long as I live, you’ll be safe. We look out for each other, Merlin. Have you learned nothing over this past year?” He finished with a small smile.

Merlin returned his smile with a weak one, which turned into more of a grimace than a smile.

Zlota flew back to Merlin, settling on his other side opposite Arthur. She nudged his hand with her small beak. “Don’t be afraid,” she said to Merlin.

“You’re right, Arthur. But I can’t help being worried. The things I could do if I’m under another’s control…” he closed his eyes, shuddering at the thought.

“Don’t let the fear win. Just focus on something else,” he asked of Merlin.

Then Arthur leaned toward him and placed his hand over his cheek. “Think about me,” he whispered and he kissed him softly on the lips.

He could feel Merlin smile against his lips. Before Arthur could do anything further, Merlin moved on top of Arthur and he looked down at him, a smile quirking at his lips. “I believe you’re on to something,” he remarked.

He bent down to kiss Arthur, his touch desperate, full of hunger and desire. Arthur reached out to tangle his fingers in Merlin’s dark hair as he kissed him back eagerly.

Krola and Zlota danced around each other, flirting, teasing each other as Arthur and Merlin were lost to the world – intent on one another as if they were the only two people in the world. And in the Shadow World, there was a good chance that they could have been the sole inhabitants of the lost, empty world.

Though this time around, they were not alone.

A spirit was lurking, a girl who they had met once on their past visits to the Shadow World. Her name was Lady Corah. Arthur and Merlin didn't know much about her or her world. Just that it was a world dominated by magic users. A fact that was of great interest to Merlin, as one can imagine. Unfortunately, Corah was especially reticent on revealing any more about her homeworld. She preferred to learn more about Arthur and Merlin and their adventures. 

If Lady Corah had been more open with the both of them, then, _oh_ , the stories she could tell... both Merlin and Arthur would have been enraptured by the tragic, intriguing tale.

Lady Corah was sixteen years old when she had died, a victim to a plague that had altered her world forever. She counted herself fortunate as she had lived longer than expected as her dear friends succumbed to the merciless plague – their only fault was that they did not possess magic. Corah had lost her parents to the plague, and she had been certain that she would be next.

It was with great luck that she had been taken in by a sorcerer, who had somehow procured a sapphire necklace for her that, upon wearing, had allowed her to live for some time without wasting away from the terrible effects of the disease. The sorcerer, you see, was an advisor to the king of Camelot, who had claimed the throne when the plague killed King Uther.

His son, Arthur had died peacefully, though Corah wasn’t sure about the truth to that – since the tension was high in those days when she was very young. Those who possessed magic were seizing control of everything as those who lacked magic died or were too weak to fight the magic users. There was every chance that an overzealous sorcerer had made sure to take out the young prince, worried that a sympathizer would find a way to restore him to good health and assist him in reclaiming the throne.

And in Corah’s world, where dragons were still many in number and the use of magic was accepted as the norm while all non-magic users were dead or near death, King Balinor’s son, Prince Merlin, had a prophecy written about him.

But she had no idea as to how these alternate versions of Merlin and a very much alive Arthur with their strange daemon-souls fit into the picture. But she could not let go of the feeling that they _were_ important in some way. 

~ * ~


	4. The Wolf and the Phoenix (4/7)

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](http://pics.livejournal.com/dk323/pic/000ey500/)

  
**Word count (Ch. 4):** 4,605  


Arthur and Merlin talked with the other daemon-less Merlin late at night in Merlin’s upstairs room in Gaius’ chambers. 

Arthur’s wolf-daemon, Krola, had her head in Arthur’s lap while Zlota, Merlin’s phoenix-daemon, was cleaning her golden feathers on the bed.

Arthur and the two Merlins sat in a circle at the foot of the bed. 

Merlin was in the middle of telling his daemon-less self the tale of what led him and Arthur into exile.

“So unfortunately, Uther did discover that I still had a bond with my magic even if I didn’t have any magic flowing through me. That was still gone. But as you can imagine, Uther wanted to eradicate anything related to magic within me.”

“Oh no,” the other Merlin reacted sympathetically. “Did he succeed? You told me that if the magic bond is severed, then you would die not long afterwards.”

Arthur sighed, nodding. He answered first before Merlin. “Uther did succeed, but luckily Merlin just managed to survive it. I guess he’s stronger than I thought he was,” Arthur teased lightly. He smiled fondly at Merlin.

Merlin shoved him in the shoulder in mock affront. “Hey, you just watch me, you prat,” he shot back in a friendly retort. He smiled back at Arthur. 

The other Merlin’s interest was undeniably peaked. “So what did King Uther do exactly? How did you survive the loss of the bond, Merlin?” He asked his daemon-possessing self.

“I think it was through sheer force of will that I survived," Merlin said thoughtfully. "I just did my best to focus on wanting to live, to see and to be with Arthur again. Uther had me put in a horrible ghost tower that sucked any remnant of magic, most importantly my bond with my magic, from within me. I remember feeling so empty. It was a terrible feeling. The feeling made it near impossible for me to hope I'd live through the ordeal,” Merlin relayed with a frown as he recalled the dark time. “When it came time for my execution on the pyre, Morgana had a plan in place, fortunately. Arthur couldn’t rescue me while I was in the tower, understand. Because he possessed my magic…”

“Morgana told me that she was concerned about the fate of Merlin’s magic contained within me if I went anywhere near the ghost tower,” Arthur confided, his past frustration echoed in his words. “The best option was to save Merlin before his execution…when he was outside, out of the blasted ghost tower. The waiting to save Merlin made me impatient and irritated. Especially thinking about how awful Merlin must be feeling trapped in that tower. So both Merlin and I had a rotten time of it. Though of course, Merlin had the worse of it. I commend him for not losing his head after his time there. It’s something short of miraculous. And there, see? I complimented you,” Arthur pointed out with a grin.

Merlin sighed while his daemon, Zlota, huffed in exasperation at Arthur’s obvious attempt at complimenting Merlin – to make up for the brief teasing earlier. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin told him, shaking his head. “As you expect after my miserable time in the tower, I was half-dead when I was taken to be executed.”

“Morgana had a spell ready to incant before Merlin was to be burned at the pyre. We only had a short window of time to work with. But we succeeded as Merlin would be dead now otherwise. The spell allowed Merlin’s magic that was held inside me to return to Merlin. Also, Merlin’s bond with his magic was re-established. We – that is, Morgana, Gwen and I – managed to free Zlota before the execution so she could go to Merlin when he made his escape. Once Merlin had his magic back, he quickly transported himself away magically.”

“Zlota, the clever daemon she is, found her way to me,” Merlin put in with a smile. 

Zlota preened at the praise. “Of course I would always find my way to you, no matter what, Merlin,” she said confidently. 

Krola barked. Arthur shushed her since it was late at night and it was best not to wake Gaius. “Zlota sometimes is too clever for her own good,” the white wolf-daemon said. 

Zlota held her head high, pretending not to hear Krola.

“But how did you transport yourself away if you had been half-dead before? Did your magic help to cure you then? Make you feel alive again?” the other Merlin asked. 

Merlin looked thoughtful. “I suppose so. I felt like the sun had possessed me and woken me up. I didn’t feel half-dead anymore with my magic returned to me. I was able to quickly react, knowing that I had to take the opportunity to escape before Uther’s guards did something to thwart my attempt.”

“I had prepared beforehand, knowing that I would choose go into exile with Merlin rather than stay in Camelot with a king that would execute a good man,” Arthur said with conviction, a note of disdain in his voice when he mentioned the king. He then acknowledged bitterly, “It’s a pity that my father was too blinded by hate and anger to see Merlin’s goodness. That his magic didn’t make him a bad person.”

“So that’s how you both went into exile,” the daemon-less Merlin finished, a pensive look in his eyes as he thought through what he had just learned. “I still don’t understand why Morgana and Gwen didn’t go with you two.”

“I asked Morgana that she and Gwen should escape with Merlin and me, but she thought Merlin would be wearing himself thin protecting all of us with his magic. That it was better for Merlin’s sake that he only focus on protecting me. It’s less stress after all to look after one person over three people. So they chose to remain in Camelot,” Arthur expressed regretfully. 

Arthur and Merlin exchanged downcast glances with each other. Bringing up Morgana was hard to do not long after her death. They didn’t think they were ready to tell this other Merlin about the tragic fate of their Morgana. 

“Maybe we could find out if your Arthur has any clue about you possessing magic,” Merlin changed the subject quickly, smiling at his other self. “If Arthur and I give it a thorough investigation, of course. I can turn us both invisible and we can follow your Arthur around. We may be able to uncover something.”

“If you could do that, I’d appreciate it. Sometimes I think he may know, but I just…well, there’s no right time to bring it up. I don’t want to say anything that’ll get me executed if Arthur doesn’t suspect already,” the other world’s Merlin confided in them with a shrug.

Arthur nodded. He reached out to clap the other Merlin on the shoulder. He reassured him, “That’s completely understandable. But hopefully, with luck, your Arthur may be closer than we think to knowing. And like you…”

“He’s unsure about when to bring it up,” Merlin finished. “And that could also mean he’s conflicted. Maybe despite how long you’ve been keeping your magic secret, your Arthur is still willing to spare you. He still sees you as a friend worth standing up for,” Merlin considered, hoping to give his other self a more positive outlook on the matter.

The other Merlin smiled. “I hope that is the case.”

“Well that’s settled then. This should be an interesting ‘investigation’,” Arthur remarked, pushing at his Merlin’s shoulder playfully.

Merlin rolled his eyes, smiling at him. He kissed Arthur lightly on the lips.

After saying goodnight to the daemon-less Merlin, Merlin and Arthur along with Zlota and Krola retired for the night. They left the other Merlin’s room and by using Excalibur, they returned to the Shadow World to get some rest. 

Now they were in a copy of the other Merlin’s room. Merlin enlarged the small, narrow bed in the room to one just big enough to fit him and Arthur comfortably.   
   
As they lay next to each other in bed, Merlin wondered thoughtfully, “You know Lady Corah? She said she came from a World of Magic, but don’t you think it’s a bit strange that she couldn’t tell us more?”  
   
“Corah said she died years ago. Her memory is understandably not as good as it once was,” Arthur figured, not sounding too bothered by it.  
   
“Yes, maybe,” Merlin said non-committally. “But it _would_ be nice to see a world where magic users are the majority,” he declared wistfully.  
   
His phoenix-daemon looked like she agreed, appearing excited at the prospect. “How interesting it would be,” Zlota said out loud happily.  
   
“Surprise, surprise,” Krola put in, sounding almost bored. She rubbed her head at Arthur’s hand, conveying silently that she wanted to be touched. Arthur obliged, petting her idly.  
   
At the same time, Arthur gave Merlin a significant look.  
   
“Well for me anyway,” Merlin quickly revised. “I guess for you, you’d feel rather outnumbered. You’re the one with Excalibur, so I’m thinking if I discover the entrance to that world…”  
   
“You go on ahead to that world, to visit if you want. But I think I’ll stay here. I’m not going to bar you from going. I know you’ll come back to me eventually,” Arthur said, supremely confident in his belief.  
   
Merlin flashed Arthur a happy grin. “Here I was worried you would be a jealous prat about it,” Merlin teased him.  
   
“Hey now. I’ve become much more reasonable in the time we’ve been together,” Arthur countered.  
   
Merlin expressed his gratitude with a kiss.  
   
Arthur wouldn’t let him pull away, instead deigning to deepen the kiss. Merlin heartily approved.  
   
They went to sleep at some point, but that wasn’t high on their priority list.  
   
~ * ~  
   
“You’re King now?” Lady Corah asked, going off the gold crown now upon the dark-haired man’s head.  
   
Also, his father’s, King Balinor’s, ring was now on his finger – only the King of Camelot could wear that ring. She could only assume that the previous King had, sadly, passed away. A new era of Camelot had begun.  
   
She looked at the man who she had known as the prince of Camelot before she had died. And now, Prince Merlin was officially King of the land she still wistfully thought of as home.  
   
“Yes, for little over a year now. Not long after my 22nd birthday,” King Merlin acknowledged. He turned to his blond, brown-eyed companion. Corah did not miss the blond man’s perceptive look as he peered at her. Merlin introduced him to her, “This is Blakeney, an advisor of mine. He possesses strong telepathic abilities as well. I’m certain we are assured of your loyalty? Blakeney will know right away.”  
   
“She’s a loyal subject of Camelot, Merlin,” Blakeney said promptly.  
   
Lady Corah looked mildly affronted. “Of course I am firmly loyal to my dear home,” she said sincerely. “I may have not possessed magic myself, but I am indebted to a sorcerer for the chance to live a longer life than I otherwise would have.”  
   
“Lord Vortigern, yes. A highly regarded advisor of my father’s. I am glad to hear of your loyalty. I need your help, My Lady Corah,” The King implored of her. “I would be most grateful for your cooperation.”  
   
“Anything you need,” Corah offered easily, ready to assist.  
   
“How much do you know of the prophecy?”  
   
“I know the part about you: “The one with the greatest power will lead the charge against the dark world.”  
   
“Good. There is, unfortunately, I suppose, more to the prophecy. And so it goes:  
‘The White Wolf will betray the Golden Phoenix. Without true forgiveness, the darkness will consume all worlds. But the betrayal is not the only route to ending the battle. For the Prince of Darkness has one weakness, but whoever seeks to destroy the orphan will never succeed.’  
You have met the ones who have animal souls outside their bodies? A white wolf and a golden phoenix? It has come to my understanding that these two people have visited the Shadow World,” Merlin said to her.  
   
“Yes,” Corah confirmed. “They are alternate versions of yourself and the deceased Prince Arthur.”  
   
“The Prince Arthur of our world is regretfully alive, My Lady,” Blakeney confided in her. “He is the Prince of Darkness in the prophecy. One of his father’s men took Arthur before he could perish in the plague. Arthur was raised in the Dark World, immersing himself in dark magicks for years. Our world is fighting his forces who hail from the Dark World. If he wins, then all of humanity in every world will suffer the end of days, a time of misery and despair.”  
   
“Oh no,” Corah remarked in honest dismay. Then she realized, reluctant to bring this up because it sounded so terrible. “So the bit where the white wolf will betray the golden phoenix – that means that Arthur and Merlin who have daemons…Arthur would betray Merlin…”  
   
“Yes,” the King acknowledged, frowning at the unfortunate predicament. “And most definitely, _true_ forgiveness will be harder to achieve. The trouble I’m dealing with, My Lady Corah, is that we need the betrayal to happen. I am not fond of my people dying in the war against the Dark World. The sooner the betrayal unravels; the sooner things can come to a happy end for our world. The forgiveness part of the prophecy may take some time, but even just the betrayal occurring will weaken the Dark World’s forces.”  
   
“What do you need me to do?” Corah asked. “I suppose if Arthur is meant to do the betrayal, then you require him.”  
   
King Merlin nodded grimly. “Yes, we need to take him as a person of interest. I want this taken care of as soon as possible. How much have you told them about our world, My Lady?”  
   
She shrugged. “Only a little, Your Majesty. Just that I came from a world dominated by magic users. I took care not to mention you or the plague. I did not wish to bring about questions from them if they discovered there was a Merlin in our world, meaning you, of course, Sire.”  
   
“Very good. The less they know the better. You have done well, My Lady. I appreciate it. Is it possible you could take us to where they are?” King Merlin asked her politely.  
   
“Yes. They are here in the Shadow World, resting now, I believe. But take heed, I must tell you that this Arthur with his wolf-daemon has the power to drain magic from sorcerers. And as you may expect, the other Merlin possesses powerful magic as well.”  
   
“Don’t worry, My Lady. We will take note of what you told us,” Blakeney reassured her.  
   
“What about the effects of the plague? Since the other Arthur doesn’t possess magic, won’t our world be poison to him?” Corah wondered.  
   
“The worst of the plague has long past. I admit that it is hard to accurately predict that our world is once again friendly to those with no magic. After all, as unfortunate as it was, all non-magic users died out years ago, like you, My Lady. It is truly sad that a lovely young woman like you died before her time,” Merlin said contritely, his words said with a smooth practiced grace.

King Merlin was born for this high role of leading his kingdom and he certainly had the charisma to prove it.  
   
“Alas, we do have medicines to administer to him if he feels ill,” the King pressed on. “But if this Arthur has the ability to drain magic, then that means he has some sort of magic within him. It may not be the magic we are used to, but it is still a magic that should keep him from ailing during his time in our world. And as for you, Lady Corah, as you are a spirit now, you possess magic of your own. You may return to our world if you wish to. We have need of spirits like you to assist in research. It must be lonely in the Shadow World for you. Would it not be nicer to return home, My Lady? I give you the offer happily. What do you say?”  
   
Lady Corah smiled genuinely. “Oh yes. I couldn’t decline such a generous offer. Yes. I will accept.”  
   
“That is good to hear. Just as I’d hoped,” the King said, nodding. He looked pleased.  
   
And with that, the Lady Corah took King Merlin and Blakeney to where Arthur and Merlin were sleeping in the Shadow World.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Arthur woke up, confused when he felt for the space beside him and discovered it empty.  
   
“Merlin?” Arthur mumbled.  
   
He opened his eyes slowly. “Merlin? Where are you?” He said louder this time.  
   
Had Merlin woken up before him? It didn’t seem like him as usually Arthur would wake up early.  
   
“Merlin isn’t here. And I don’t think we’re in the Shadow World anymore, Arthur,” Krola informed Arthur, her voice sounding worried.  
   
The wolf-daemon was sitting by his bedside. She placed her furry white front paws on the bed. Despite Merlin being missing, apparently, Arthur felt relieved to have Krola with him. That helped to calm his concern slightly.  
   
Arthur sighed. He looked around the room he was in. From a quick look, he easily could tell that this definitely wasn’t the Shadow World anymore. The chambers he was in were a far cry from the daemon-less Merlin’s quarters he and Merlin had gone to sleep in. The room looked like guest chambers for nobility and the room wasn’t overwhelmed with grey. Instead, his current chambers were the exact opposite.  
   
If Arthur wasn’t in a current state of confusion – hoping someone would come and explain to him where he was and why he was taken – he would have been in awe at the gilded sleekness of the room. The bed frame was made of gold, the walls and floor were a rich golden colour, the tables were golden and there was even a huge rug with what Arthur assumed was this kingdom’s coat of arms.  
   
At the center of the rug, the coat of arms depicted a deep red dragon breathing out fire, which was shaped into a fiery phoenix, the bird’s wings spread out, making the phoenix look exceptionally grand.  
   
Three words were written underneath the picture:  
   
Vita Magica Lux  
   
Arthur knew that meant, “Life Magic Light” which told him first and foremost that this kingdom definitely wasn’t an anti-magic kingdom like the one ruled by his father. Could this world be the world of magic that Lady Corah had told him and Merlin about?  
   
The room certainly didn’t carry a dreary melancholic atmosphere like that of the Shadow World. For this, Arthur was grateful. The less time he could spend in the Shadow World, the better.  
   
He wished though that he had Excalibur with him. When he went to sleep, Arthur had placed his cherished sword in its scabbard on the bedside table. He wasn’t sure if whoever had taken him into this world had taken his sword as well. Clearly whoever lived in this world had knowledge of an alternate form of travel between worlds.  
   
As far as Arthur knew, he was the only one who could use Excalibur to open and enter other worlds. So hopefully his sword had been left alone…if the person knew about the limitation of the sword and could easily travel to other worlds without Excalibur. Then the person would have no desire to steal the sword, right?  
   
Arthur rubbed his brow. Who was he kidding? Who’s to say their curiosity – regardless of their level of knowledge of Excalibur -- over the sword wouldn’t tempt them to take it? Or even worse, to experiment on the sword?  
   
“Oh no. They’re going to break my sword apart,” Arthur moaned out loud. He thought he would be ill if he had to see Excalibur in pieces. It was his sword. If anyone dared lay a hand on it… that person would risk dealing with a very angry Arthur.  
   
Then he mused, “And if I was able to be taken, then Merlin wasn’t able to stop them. He would’ve woken up; I know it, if he had sensed someone unfamiliar in our room. Do you think whoever took me left him alone, Krola? He’s either still in the Shadow World worrying about where I am or he was taken like me…” Arthur decided logically.  
   
“Either option is just as likely,” Krola remarked. “Come on, get out of bed. You can check if the door’s open,” she advised. “If your captor put you in this nice room, then maybe they’re also good enough to not lock you in.”  
   
Even as she said the words, Arthur could already tell she was of the same mind as him. No matter that he wasn’t in the dungeons as he’d expect compared to the rich room he was currently in, Arthur highly doubted he’d be able to leave this room freely.  
   
She put one paw on his arm and shoved at his shoulder with her nose.  
   
“All right. All right,” Arthur agreed. He stroked his daemon on the head and then climbed out of bed.  
   
He went to the door with Krola walking close beside him. She rubbed her furry head against his leg sometimes and whined a little as well. Arthur knew that his daemon was feeling uneasy and anxious. And as a result, she sought comfort from him. He couldn’t blame her. He felt just as ill at ease.  
   
Arthur turned the knob on the golden door, which had a dark red dragon emblazoned in the center of it. The door wouldn’t budge and a golden shimmer formed that felt like it was literally pushing Arthur’s hand away from touching the door. Getting the hint, Arthur moved away from the door.  
   
“Well the door is out of the question,” Arthur commented resignedly.  
   
“There’s a window on the other side…we could take a look. Get a better idea of what this world and kingdom looks like,” his wolf-daemon suggested.  
   
Krola sounded undeterred by the confirmation that they were locked in this room until someone came to see them.    
   
Arthur walked across the room to see what was happening outside through the window.  
   
The window was tall with the outside frames, predictably, also made of shining gold.  
   
Krola stood next to him as Arthur peered out the tall window. He was surprised to see a young woman with dark golden hair on a winged horse in the sky outside his window. While the winged horse was predominantly white in color, the magical creature’s wings were black at the tips.  
   
The female rider couldn’t be more than 15, 16? And she was flying that winged horse like an expert rider. She directed her horse to fly up above the clouds until Arthur couldn’t see either of them anymore.  
   
That was when Arthur noticed a young dark-haired man on a dark green, golden-streaked dragon a little further away. The dragon didn’t look huge – certainly not as big as the dragon kept imprisoned by his father, and that Merlin had had associations with. Arthur let out a small smile as he recalled Merlin’s exasperation with the dragon’s cryptic advice to him.  
   
Instead, this dark green and gold dragon was closer to the size of the woman’s winged horse. Maybe a little bigger? It didn’t seem as daunting to ride this particular dragon considering its more medium size.  
   
But then Arthur’s attention was diverted by the woman on the winged horse as her steed came down from the sky, escaping the clouds. To his alarm, she maneuvered her white horse so that it flipped upside down. The winged horse, seeming to be practiced in this move, was still quite able to flap its black-tipped wings steadily.  
   
Shockingly though, the rider purposefully – Arthur sure hoped it was intentional – let go of her hold on her winged steed.  
   
The woman started to fall, and her winged steed disappeared in a brilliant flash of white and black light. Before the woman could hit the ground, her horse appeared right below her and she smoothly landed on the winged horse, grabbing a hold of its mane. She cheered, grinning as she directed her steed to land on the gilded courtyard floor.  
   
Arthur watched as the young man – who could now tell was most likely the same age as the girl – flew down on his dragon to meet the girl.  
   
From the small group gathered in the courtyard – most of them women – Arthur heard them cry excitedly, chanting, “Lyra! Lyra! Do it again!”  
   
“You think that was impressive?” The man asked of the others. All the women nodded confidently while the boys sort of shrugged, suddenly ambivalent now. “You just wait!”  
   
“Don’t tell me you’re going to do _that_ , Will,” Lyra said, frowning at him.  
   
Arthur wondered just exactly the dragon rider was going to do. He was feeling engrossed in the scene before him.  
   
The man – Will, as his name was, apparently – only winked at her and then he launched himself into the sky on the dragon. He kept going higher and higher, gaining speed along the way.  
   
Then Arthur couldn’t see him anymore as he disappeared above the clouds. After what felt like a long time, but maybe was really only a few minutes, the green golden-streaked dragon reappeared by itself, without its rider.  
   
The dragon transformed into a literal fire dragon. Arthur was impressed. He had never seen a dragon completely made of fire. Arthur wished that Merlin was here with him. He would have loved to see all of this.  
   
But the dragon soon returned to its original state, and Arthur was wondering where the rider had gone off to.  
   
The dragon flew back up, vanishing behind the clouds. Then after a long moment, the golden-streaked dragon reappeared, now with its rider on its back, and from their position high above, dragon and rider dived at great speed down to the courtyard. The on-lookers gasped with anticipation and made space for the dragon to land.  
   
A lesser rider would sure meet his or her death when colliding with the unforgiving floor. But this rider knew what to do as he pulled his dragon up at the last second so they could land safely in the courtyard.  
   
The dark golden-haired girl gave a long sigh, but Arthur could see her smile slightly as well.  
   
“And that is what makes me one of the best dragon riders of Camelot,” Will said out loud, looking rather pleased with himself.  
   
The whole group applauded him, though the women called for Lyra to do another trick.  
   
Arthur’s mind was focused on the word, ‘Camelot’… was this yet another world with another Camelot? Like the daemon-less Merlin’s world? And if there was a Camelot, then that meant there should be an Arthur here, a Merlin…  
   
Arthur felt a headache growing as he turned away from the window.  
   
“We’re in another world’s Camelot,” Krola mused.  
   
Arthur nodded stiffly. “I hope for my sake that doesn’t mean there are also alternates of me and Merlin and the others we know. It might have been interesting at first, but to have yet _another_ world with other versions of us...that’s too much,” he admitted grimly.  
   
Krola agreed with his sentiment.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Back in the Shadow World, Merlin slept on. His sleep was so deep that he didn't notice that Arthur was gone. Zlota was in her firefly form, having nestled herself in Merlin's hair. All was well.

~ * ~


	5. The Return Home

**Title:** The Wolf and the Phoenix (5a/7)  
 **Author:** dk323  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Word count:** ~ 8,731  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Spoilers:** Story is now considered an AU after 2x04, Lancelot and Guinevere. There will be references to later episodes, but some characters aren’t aware of certain things as they should be if I were following current show canon.  
   
Most notably, Merlin doesn’t know about Dragonlords or that his father is one. So if that throws you off, then the AU nature of the fic is the reason why.  
 **Disclaimer:** The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The “His Dark Materials” books are property of Philip Pullman. No money is being made.  
 **Summary:**  
In another world where everyone has daemons, Arthur is an exiled prince for saving Merlin from the King's blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the King's men catch up to them.  
   
It's not the danger, but a damning prophecy that'll put their strong bond to the ultimate test.  
 

 **A/N:** A His Dark Materials crossover/fusion where Arthur and Merlin both have daemons. A daemon is a person’s soul that exists outside of one’s body in animal form. A daemon can speak as well. Further notes on daemons in Chapter 1.  
 

  


 **Chapter 5:**  
 _The Return Home_  
   
 _~ * ~_  
   
“I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever had,” Merlin remarked as he stretched in bed.  
   
Switching to her phoenix look, Zlota flapped her wings, flying briefly to exercise her expansive scarlet gold wings. Then she landed on the empty space beside Merlin on the bed. The space that had been occupied by Arthur.  
   
The daemon noted a bit worriedly, “Arthur’s not here, Merlin. And I don’t see Excalibur either. He must have taken it. He wouldn’t leave without notice like that,” she acknowledged.  
   
Merlin agreed with her. Arthur wouldn’t be one to leave him stuck in another world without at least telling Merlin he was doing that. After all, Arthur was the only one who could handle Excalibur, the sole means they had to moving between worlds. Did that mean someone -- or maybe more than one person -- had taken Arthur by force during the night? And had prevented Merlin from waking up?  
   
But then the questions helping to drive his worry over Arthur sort of quieted, became unimportant to Merlin. He felt pleasantly calm. Arthur was fine, he was sure. The thing he was now most concerned about was how would he leave the Shadow World? Without Arthur and Excalibur…  
   
“I don’t like the idea of being stuck here indefinitely,” Merlin said out loud with a resigned sigh.  
   
Zlota asked him if he could mentally communicate with Arthur. Merlin attempted to, but he had hit a wall – the kind of wall he expected if the other person was presently in another world. Merlin couldn’t speak to him even mind-to-mind now.  
   
So Arthur was not in the Shadow World anymore. Was he back in the daemon-less world?  
   
“Arthur’s in another world. I’m not sure which one, but we can’t get to it either way,” Merlin said with a shrug.  
   
Zlota flew off with a, “Maybe there’s something in this world that could help us,” she said hopefully.  
   
She exited the room with a smooth glide of her wings. After he dressed and collected his things into his pack to take with him, Merlin was ready to go. He followed Zlota out of the room.  
   
The mist-filled space Merlin entered didn’t resemble another room. Only the room he and Arthur had departed from in the non-daemon world would be replicated. This vacant area was itching to be manipulated into something with character, with definition. A grand hall? A practical workspace? Or maybe another bedchamber? Well, at least Merlin’s magic was vying to do some designing with a magical flourish.  
   
Merlin smiled as he felt his magic flowing inside of him, sparking a bit as it tried to persuade him to conjure something big and magnificent.  
   
Apparently his magic wasn’t fond of dull spaces and wished to rectify the problem. But with just a hint of reluctance, Merlin suppressed his magic. This wasn’t the time for redecorating.  
   
Up ahead of him, Merlin spotted a small glowing button. The strange button was about level to his waist. There was no solid wall that the button should have been attached to. The button seemed to simply float in place with nothing but grey mist supporting the device.  
   
Zlota was looking at it, and she perched on Merlin’s shoulder when he approached her.  
   
Observing the button more closely, Merlin saw a picture of a phoenix emblazoned on it.  
   
“Maybe you have to press it. It could be our way out of this world,” Zlota suggested.  
   
“But what world would we be going back to?” Merlin wondered.  
   
“The daemon-less one we left? I hope?” Zlota sounded as uncertain as Merlin felt.  
   
Merlin bit his lip. “It better be. I’d like to avoid returning to our world,” he declared.  
   
Zlota left his shoulder, and before Merlin could stop her, she put her beak on the button and pressed it.  
   
“Hey, Zlota!” Merlin exclaimed, not too happy about her sudden act. “What--”  
   
“We might as well try it out.  And the button has a phoenix on it, so clearly that’s a sign for me to press it,” Zlota said mischievously.  
   
Merlin’s reply was delayed as a window opening out into another world appeared before them.  
   
“If we enter this world, how do we make sure that this opening gets closed? Arthur seals it in with his fingers, but--” Merlin paused, contemplating what to do.  
   
“I want to see this world first,” Zlota decided. “Come on. If there’s a button in this world, then there must be one in the other world that closes the opening,” he reasoned out.  
   
Merlin shrugged. “All right. Hopefully that’ll be the case. I swear if this is our world and we have to deal with Uther…” he trailed off, the threat of danger quite clear to the both of them.  
   
With a little trepidation, Merlin -- with Zlota flying beside him --stepped into the other world.  
   
To his relief, he did find a similar phoenix button on the other side. This time, he pressed it and the opening from the Shadow World closed. Merlin knew from Arthur’s dealing with Excalibur how important it was to keep the openings between worlds sealed after you stepped into one. It was like making sure you cleaned your room after making a mess.  
   
Merlin wondered if the button would appear again when he needed to return to the Shadow World. If – _when_ – Arthur returned, he’d be expecting them in that world. But Merlin knew Arthur would understand the need to leave the dreary, dull Shadow World when an opportunity to do so presented itself.  
   
He would deal with that issue later, Merlin decided. For now, he’d find out what world they were in.  
   
He found himself in a clearing with a small lake nearby. The forest air was welcoming and just what Merlin needed now. The leaves of the trees swayed gently in the breeze. He felt like he was in a paradise.  
   
A wave of relief swept through him, this one bigger than before, when he sighted a little blonde girl walking in their direction.  
   
She didn’t have the daemon. Thank the gods, Merlin thought. Maybe he had just returned to the non-daemon world he and Arthur had been spending time in?  
   
“Hello,” Merlin greeted her. Zlota returned to his shoulder and she observed the girl with peaked interest.  
   
The blonde girl turned her head toward Merlin at his voice. She smiled at him.  
   
“Oh hi,” the girl said amicably. Merlin was struck by how trusting she seemed. A girl that young, wandering in the forest? Where were her parents? Then the girl’s attention was drawn to Zlota.  
   
“What a very pretty bird you have,” she complimented, looking quite impressed. Zlota preened at the acknowledgement, standing up taller and making sure her scarlet and gold feathers were immaculate. “Could I touch – is it a male or a female?” She asked.  
   
Merlin was uneasy. It just wasn’t right for another person to touch another’s daemon (well, there were the exceptions of course, but the general rule was still an unspoken understanding in his daemon world). He recalled the terrible pain he had felt when one of Uther’s men had gotten a hold of Zlota. Not something he wanted to experience again.  
   
Of course, this little girl didn’t know about any of that.  
   
“Thank you. My bird is a female. She’s a phoenix, in fact. But I’m sorry -- you can’t touch her. She’s very particular about others doing that. I’m Myrddin, by the way. What is your name?”  
   
Merlin thought it would be safest for him to go under a false name. If this was the non-daemon world, then it would raise questions if there were two Merlins about.  
   
The girl looked a bit disappointed at being refused, but she quickly shook it off as she was given an opening to talk about herself. “My name is Alice. I’m seven and--” She paused, biting her lip, worried about something, before she ventured, “A phoenix is a magical creature, isn’t it? You’re not anti-magic, right?” Alice asked him.  
   
Merlin chuckled. Him? Anti-magic? That would be the day. “No, no. I’m far from anti-magic. Is this because of Camelot? The magic ban?”  
   
Alice nodded. “Camelot is half a day’s ride from here. I was always told to keep my father’s true nature a secret. That the King would go after him if he was found out. But I suppose if you have a magic phoenix, then I can tell you that I’m the daughter of a Dragonlord,” she said proudly.  
   
Merlin hadn’t heard of Dragonlords, but it definitely sounded impressive. Possibly Dragonlords were sorcerers who dealt primarily with dragons?  
   
She continued, “I was searching for dragons, you see… my cousins keep telling me that King Uther killed all the dragons except for the one he keeps locked up… but he can’t have killed all of them, right?” She asked him earnestly. “It’d be horrible if that lone dragon was the last of his kin. I can’t imagine,” Alice breathed out, looking so sad about it.  
   
Merlin was a bit alarmed when Alice’s eyes glistened, tears starting to form.  
   
“Alice, Alice…oh no, please don’t,” Merlin said to her gently. Zlota flew off his shoulder and landed on the ground near him. She looked sympathetic for the girl.  
   
Tears were streaming silently down the girl’s face. Merlin went over to her and embraced her.  
   
“Where are your parents, Alice?” Merlin asked her quietly.  
   
“They died a year ago,” she told him sadly. “My cousins have been taking care of me. They don’t understand. So I’m running away…to look for dragons. It’s what my father would have wanted, I know it.”  
   
“I’m sure your cousins love you. You should give them a chance,” Merlin said to her quietly.  
   
Alice gave a small shake of her head and sniffled.  
   
“Hey,” Merlin coaxed. “Do you want to see something?”  
   
“What?” Alice asked, her eyes a bit red and her cheeks tear-stained.  
   
Merlin’s eye lit golden as he conjured a little red dragon with yellow-gold eyes. The dragon was made out of wood, though the eyes were little pieces of gold.   
   
The girl smiled softly, taking the gift he offered her.  
   
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.  
   
“Think of it as a good luck charm. Maybe you’ll find a dragon, you never know,” Merlin told her, tapping her on the nose lightly. He smiled at her.  
   
The girl grinned back and hugged him, the dragon toy clutched in one hand as she did so.  
   
Then Alice told him that she had to go, but Merlin didn’t feel right in letting her be on her own. He offered to help her out, but Alice assured him with a bright smile that she would be all right. That she was sure she would find a dragon soon and that everything would be okay.  
   
Not wanting to argue with a little girl, Merlin decided to let her go on her way. Still, he made sure to put some protection spells on her, the words spoken silently so as not to draw Alice’s attention.  
   
He wished her well, and she departed. Merlin felt touched to see the girl looking at his conjured wooden dragon with interest as she walked away.  
   
Merlin bet that if that girl ever happened to meet Kilgharrah, the dragon Merlin had dealt with in the past, then she would be put off by dragons for life. Unless she liked grumpy dragons who liked to give out mostly unhelpful advice in cryptic wording that made Merlin’s head ache.  
   
Then again, he hoped that if other dragons did exist that they’d have more agreeable temperaments. And after all, with Kilgharrah being locked up for so long, then of course that accounted for his behavior.  
   
He should find a way to release the dragon…whenever he returned to his world, which would preferably be when Uther’s cold, dead body was underground. And only _then_ would he agree to return with Arthur.  
   
But for now, Merlin decided to find something to eat. This meant he’d probably have to hunt for rabbit or something. A necessary evil he mused resignedly.  
   
At least he had bread, cheese, fruit and water in his pack. The daemon-less Merlin had helpfully given him and Arthur some food the other day.  
   
Zlota flew overhead, keeping a sharp eye out for prey as Merlin walked the forest floor. He ate some of the bread he had with him, and thought it’d be nice to take a dip in the lake after his breakfast.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Arthur was grateful that food appeared on the table closest to the door. He was beginning to feel hungry. He did worry that the food may be poisoned, but his hunger won out. So he tucked into his breakfast – one plate full of some sausages and bread and another platter filled with assorted fruit. A goblet of water was provided as well, and Arthur was a bit disappointed that it wasn’t honeyed mead or ale.  
   
“Should we be this trusting?” Krola debated. “Eating and drinking what our captors provide for us? What if that drink is poison?”  
   
Arthur shrugged. A sense of calm settled over him. “It tastes like water to me. Not that water has any sort of distinguishable taste to it.”  
   
“Well it’s too late now if you’ve drunk it,” Krola intimated, frowning at him.  
   
“And I’m still alive, so there’s that,” he quipped with a wink.  
   
Krola gave him a look.     
   
Not long after he finished eating, Arthur heard a knock at the door.  
   
He exchanged glances with Krola. They would finally get some answers now.  
   
Unsure who or what to expect, Arthur went to open the door. But then he remembered that the door was locked from the inside.  
   
Arthur stopped short as a result. Well, at least the person was courteous enough to give him notice that they were there instead of barging in without a word.  
   
“You can come in,” Arthur said loudly, not sure how to properly approach this peculiar situation.  
   
Usually he’d be wasting away in the dungeons at this point during past capture attempts, kept hostage for ransom. Considering the lavish state of his room, Arthur didn’t believe he was being held for monetary gain this time.  
   
The door opened to reveal a blond man with dark brown eyes. He had on a white shirt that opened narrowly at his chest as well as fitted black breeches.  
   
He was Arthur’s age, though he wondered if the blond could be younger. He seemed like someone a woman might be inclined to mother because he was thin in that way that made you want to give him extra helpings of food. Sort of like with Merlin, who clearly had trouble eating enough. Though their time in exile certainly didn’t help in the getting enough to eat issue – the not getting caught problem, of course, took higher priority.  
   
Anyway, at least the man didn’t have Merlin’s unfortunately big ears (not that Arthur disliked Merlin’s ears, but _still_ …they were ridiculously big). The young man was handsome, he supposed, not astonishingly so; but just enough to stir interest. Not that Arthur was remotely interested in the stranger who was most likely involved in his capture – certainly not endearing him to Arthur. Besides, he had Merlin. He didn’t need anyone else.  
   
Arthur thought that the man gave off a quiet yet undeniably perceptive vibe. Instead of feeling completely unnerved by this stranger’s notably discerning gaze, Arthur still was rather calm. Nothing to worry or get overanxious about, he decided.  
   
The mystery man gave him a small smile saying hello and introducing himself as Blakeney. He was an advisor to the King of Camelot. And that this was, in fact, the World of Magic; so this was another Camelot Arthur had never been to before. And by the look of his given room, this Camelot was much better off than even his world’s Camelot.  
   
Arthur waved his hand at the man, directing him to sit down at the table. Arthur sat down across from him. Krola sat down by Arthur, settling her head on Arthur’s thigh and gently prodding him to stroke her head. To ease her wariness over their current predicament. Arthur rested his hand on her head, stroking her, without argument.  
   
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Blakeney began smoothly. “You don’t need to worry about your friend. He is safe and unharmed. We left him in the world we took you from. We also have provided your friend with an alternative way to travel to the non-daemon world. We’re aware of your exiled status in your world, so we avoided sending him into danger there. I would imagine neither of you like to stay in the Shadow World for too long.”  
   
“Yes, you’re right about that. The less time spent in that world the better. But how can I know you’re telling me the truth? About Merlin? And why did you take me? What do you need me for?” Arthur demanded to know.  
   
He was admittedly bursting with curiosity about what they needed him for.  
   
“I am telling the truth,” Blakeney said simply.  
   
Arthur couldn’t help but believe him. He wasn’t sure why. He just did.  
   
“All right. What do you need with me?”  
   
“We only need your help,” he told Arthur, making it sound like it was such an effortless request.  
   
It certainly didn’t feel like the request warranted his being taken into another world without his consent.  
   
Blakeney pressed on with his explanation. “This world, unlike most other worlds, is aware of the existence of the other worlds. We know about your daemon world, for example, and that’s why we kept your wolf-daemon with you--” and at that, Krola thanked him in a slightly condescending tone, that it was nice that otherworlders took on the extra task of learning about other worlds.  
   
Arthur quieted his daemon. She was still tense, he knew. He patted her on the head, assuring her it would be okay.  
   
Blakeney didn’t appear to be bothered by it and continued to speak, “As you can expect, we have modes of travel to go from one world to another. We even have gatekeepers for each kingdom – to monitor the comings and goings of our population. Because of this awareness of other worlds, we feel that we have a duty to insure the welfare of the other worlds. Someone has to do it after all,” Blakeney said reasonably.  
   
Arthur nodded, understanding. “So you need my help with what exactly?”  
   
“We want to stop the darkness from spreading to the other worlds. If the darkness overwhelms every world, then everyone will be miserable. It would be the end of all worlds. And my world, this World of Magic, is fully invested in preventing this darkness, this evil from bringing about the apocalypse. Luckily, you are just the person to help us with this fight.”  
   
“But how?” Arthur wondered, hoping he would get a clarification.  
   
Blakeney gave him a half-smile. “You will help us. It’s that simple. You’re helping a good cause. That’s most important in the end,” he advised Arthur.  
   
Arthur decided that the other man was right. He would be helping a good cause. It didn’t matter how he would help, just that Arthur would be able to assist in some manner.  
   
“I can take you to see the King now. I imagine you’d be interested in seeing him?”  
   
Arthur nodded, but then wondered, “Who is the King of Camelot here? I’m aware that another world carries alternate versions of the people I know – the non-daemon world. Is this World of Magic the same?”  
   
“Yes, this world does have alternates of those you know. But judging by the frown on your face, you didn’t want to hear that, did you?”  
   
“I could use a break from meeting other versions of the same people. There has to be a limit,” Arthur said tiredly.  
   
“Don’t worry,” Blakeney reassured him. “You will only be mostly dealing with one person – that is, the King – who may look familiar to you. You won’t be overwhelmed by people who look like copies of those you know.  
   
“So the King – he’s an alternate?”  
   
“Yes,” Blakeney confirmed.  
   
“If this is the World of Magic, who would be a likely candidate to rule a magical kingdom?” Arthur pondered aloud.  
   
“Someone with big ears,” Krola spoke up, sounding amused.  
   
Arthur felt the need to hit his head against the wall. Seriously? Could it be that this magic-dominated Camelot could be ruled by another Merlin?  
   
The non-daemon world he could deal with a little better because at least the Arthur and Merlin were in positions not different from his own world.  
   
But in the World of Magic, Arthur would definitely need to get accustomed to the idea of Merlin being King…  
   
“Is it Merlin?”  
   
Blakeney confirmed his guess with a nod. And Arthur knew that his Merlin would love it even more here with his other self being king. Hopefully not too much though. After all, Arthur couldn’t be without Merlin. Though this world seemed pleasant, he himself couldn’t imagine residing in a world where he wasn’t King of Camelot. It would be a hard thing to reconcile.  
   
Despite the temptation Merlin would face to remain forever in the World of Magic, Arthur trusted in his bond with Merlin. In the end, Merlin would choose to stay with him in the Camelot of the daemon world – with Arthur as King if all went well.  
   
~ * ~    
   
The walls in the hallway were surprisingly white instead of golden, though there were pictures of dragons adorning the walls. And each dragon had a burst of fire coming from its mouth with the next dragon a few feet away from the previous dragon.  
   
Not just that, but there were actual small dragons walking or flying in the corridor. Fortunately not many dragons were in the hallway so it wasn’t overwhelming, but certainly Arthur was amazed at all the dragons just in the castle. After all, his world had only the one dragon. He didn’t even know how many dragons there had been in existence before his father had killed them.  
   
The passageway was wide enough that both men could walk side by side in relative ease. There was room for a third person, but it seemed that the dragons made that gap their own as they walked one after another. And the dragons – whether walking or in flight – were generally good about not colliding into people or getting in the way. Arthur thought that a system of order had definitely been established to allow dragons and humans to live together peacefully. At least the small, more manageably-sized dragons – Arthur didn’t think the big dragons would be as easy to co-exist with. The best option was to leave them outside.  
   
Fairies had taken up residence in floating flowers, which smoothly maneuvered themselves to accommodate any flying dragons. The brightly-colored flowers went along at a relatively unhurried pace near the corridor’s high ceiling. From their flowers, some fairies peered at the pair in curiosity and others waved at Blakeney, who waved back at them and greeted some of the fairies.  
   
“Dragons come in all shapes and sizes here,” Blakeney told Arthur. “I imagine you’re only familiar with large green dragons?”  
   
“Yes.”  
   
“We have those too. They are the classical look that dragons have. It’s not a surprise you’d have such dragons in your world. They are quite common.”  
   
“My father killed all the dragons except for one in my world.”  
   
The dragons in the hallway all stared at Arthur as if he had gravely displeased them with his words. Krola was on the defensive, ready to growl, but Arthur asked her to calm herself.  
   
“I’m er—I’m _really_ sorry,” Arthur apologized hurriedly. “That was only my father. I like – _love_ dragons,” he continued, trying his best to persuade them that he was pro-dragon.  
   
He tried not to dwell on the absurdity of convincing little dragons to like him – maybe most of these dragons were in fact very young dragons? So he was at the mercy of baby dragons. Welcome to a new world, he muttered to himself wryly.  
   
“If I had been able to, I would have done my best to keep the dragons alive,” Arthur finished sincerely, smiling at them. He worried the smile came out more as a grimace.  
   
The dragons turned their attention away from him, apparently satisfied with his response.  
   
“As you saw, it is best to avoid speaking about what your father did to the dragons,” Blakeney suggested to him. “Especially around our dragons.”  
   
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” Arthur said drily.  
   
Then a dark-haired woman in a golden dress approached them. Arthur almost couldn’t believe she was real, as she may just have been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He reluctantly had to admit that even Morgana couldn’t quite beat this woman in beauty.  
   
But what startled him the most was the lady’s purple eyes. Arthur wasn’t sure he was seeing it right. Could her eyes truly be purple? Maybe they were just a funny shade of blue or violet…  
   
The woman stopped before the pair, smiling at the both of them. She kissed Blakeney softly on the lips. Turning her attention to Arthur, she said, “Well hello. You must be the guest – Arthur? And this is your wolf-daemon?” She asked, peering at the white wolf.  
   
Krola wagged her tail, happier now, which was a nice change from her earlier behavior. Arthur thought that she was as taken in by the woman’s beauty as he was. There was just something about the woman that put Arthur in a good mood.  
   
Arthur nodded. “Yes to both. Her name is Krolewska, but I call her Krola most of the time. It’s good to meet you.”  
   
“Arthur, this is Morgan -- the woman I’m with,” Blakeney introduced.  
   
Morgan leaned toward Arthur and he caught a pleasant whiff of her sweet-smelling perfume. Arthur was nearly intoxicated by it, and wished he could stay in this relaxed state forever.  
   
She said to him conspiratorially, “You know my mother is an enchantress. She used to seduce men, sleep with them, and sometimes she even slit their throats before they awoke. The tragedy of it is now I don’t know who my father is. So many choices, you know?” Morgan said sadly with a long, dramatic sigh.  
   
“Oh, Morgan likes to tease,” Blakeney said in slight exasperation though he smiled quietly at Morgan. He was clearly pleased to see her. “Don’t listen to her. While her mother’s an enchantress, there are good and bad enchantresses here.”  
   
“And my mother’s a very, _very_ good enchantress,” Morgan emphasized with a widening smile.  
   
“How can you be a _good_ enchantress?” Arthur wondered since from past knowledge, enchantresses were always best avoided.  
   
“They help people to relax when they’re tense,” she spoke with a hint of pride in her voice. “The not so good enchantresses abuse that ability and prefer to gain power. My mother isn’t like that. I chose to become a dancer myself, but I still try to stay true to my mother’s heritage. Family is most important after all.”  
   
“Yes. I would agree,” Arthur said.  
   
Merlin was his true family if not in blood then in spirit. And then Morgana who he had grown up with, and who had been like a sister to him. For Morgana to choose to die over the worse fate of being controlled by his vengeful father was a terrible tragedy. It made Arthur hate his father even more.  
   
Of course there was Gwen too, but it hurt Arthur to think about her. He fervently hoped that his good friend was all right. Family carried a different meaning for him these days, but the strength of that loving bond still held fast.  
   
Morgan smiled at Arthur appreciatively. After whispering something in Blakeney’s ear and kissing him on the cheek, she declared that she had to go.  
   
“Goodbye Blakeney, Arthur. It was nice to meet you,” she said to them before she went off down the corridor in the opposite direction.  
   
“How did you two meet?” Arthur asked conversationally, though he was curious to find out the answer.  
   
“Six months ago, she was here at Camelot to perform a few dances. I bumped into her in a hallway. It was a bit embarrassing as you can imagine. Morgan was the one who pursued me more than I her. I’m not that good with…you know, I’m just not good with women,” Blakeney admitted, rubbing the back of his head and shrugging. “And I probably would’ve been happy to never get married, but Morgan came along and—well, I think she may be the one.”  
   
Arthur didn’t press him on further details since it was more of a womanly matter to chatter on about beloveds and gossip about who was with whom. And Blakeney seemed to be more the quiet type, not one to divulge everything.  
   
So Arthur changed tact. “Are Morgan’s eyes _really_ purple?” He wondered. He felt a tad ridiculous for asking, but he _was_ interested in knowing the truth.  
   
Blakeney looked relieved for the change of topic. He chuckled softly. “Yes, they are. A lot of people ask her that. You’re not the first.”  
   
“I’m glad I saved her from the same old question,” Arthur remarked, smiling.  
   
“On the contrary, Morgan’ll probably be disappointed now that you didn’t ask. She likes to tell interesting stories about why her eyes are purple. Each story more fantastical than the last. She’s good at that,” Blakeney told him.  
   
A dancer, a storyteller and maybe an enchantress too… certainly, this Morgan was an intriguing woman, Arthur thought. Morgana would have liked her and at the very least, the pair could have struck up a conversation about their similar names.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Merlin felt like he was being watched. He had been swimming in the lake for almost half an hour now, but due to his uneasiness, he decided to stop. Was there someone at the shore?  
   
“Zlota?” Merlin called.  
   
The daemon was flying not far away and she came not long after he had beckoned her.  
   
“There’s a boy who looks like you on shore…” Zlota told him. She sounded thoroughly intrigued.  
   
Merlin was startled. “What?”  
   
Could it be another version of him that had come here from another world? What if it was the same world that Arthur had mysteriously gone to? After all, that world appeared to have other means of interworld travel that wasn’t limited to Excalibur. It was possible.  
   
Zlota prodded him to swim to the edge of the lake so Merlin could see the stranger for himself.  
   
Shortly, Merlin reached the shore and Zlota’s account was confirmed.  
   
A boy – who couldn’t be more than ten – was at the shore. He was standing next to Merlin’s discarded clothes and his pack. And yes, Zlota was right. The boy did eerily resemble Merlin when he had been a boy. Zlota changed to her more spy-fitting form of a firefly and settled in Merlin’s hair to observe the curious boy.  
   
The boy appeared startled when Merlin was nearer to him and his undivided attention was on the child.  
   
“Hi there. Are you all right?” Merlin asked him.  
   
The boy bit his lip and started backing away.  
   
“No, wait. Please. I want to know if you’re from a different world. You look like me -- well, when I was your age. Can you speak? If you can’t, that’s all right. I’m not going to hurt you,” Merlin assured the boy.  
   
“Yes. I’m from another world,” the boy answered simply. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't.  
   
“Okay. I’m not from this world either…so I guess we’re both otherworlders in a foreign world you could say,” Merlin concluded.  
   
The boy smiled.  
   
“I’m going to come out of the water now… I need to put my clothes back on.”  
   
The boy shrugged, and Merlin hoped that the boy wouldn’t be tempted to run off on him. At least for now, the child seemed somewhat interested in staying. Merlin was wondering how much he could learn about this boy.  
   
Merlin emerged from the lake, and he dried himself off with a silent spell. He quickly dressed himself.  
   
“I should introduce myself – I’m Merlin. And you are?”  
   
“An orphan. I’m an orphan.”  
   
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Merlin said sympathetically. “Are you all on your own?”  
   
“No, not now. I’ve been lucky,” the boy informed him happily.  
   
“Do you have a name? How do I address you?”  
   
After a long moment, the boy replied to him, “Gwydion. That’s my name.”  
   
“If Gwydion was your name, you wouldn’t take so long to think of it. _You look like me._ You have to see that. Your name is really Merlin, isn’t it?”  
   
“I also like Gawen. I think that name sounds good,” Gwydion, the orphan -- whoever he _truly_ was -- contemplated idly, completely ignoring Merlin. “I should go,” Gwydion then declared.  
   
Merlin saw ahead of him a robed figure of a man with his hood up. The stranger’s appearance was not unlike how the Druids dressed. He was too far off for Merlin to get a definite description of him. And it looked like the man’s face was shadowed anyway.  
   
“Goodbye!” Gwydion said to him before he rushed to meet the hooded figure.  
   
Merlin watched as the hooded man – the boy’s guardian, he assumed? – wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders securely. The boy hugged the man, clinging to him. The man squeezed the boy’s shoulders, returning the affection, and then the pair of them disappeared in a magical display of dark clouds and lightning.  
   
So that’s what Gwydion meant by being lucky. Despite his parents being deceased, apparently, at least the boy had that mysterious person taking care of him.  
   
Though on second thought, the mysterious, concealed nature of the hooded figure didn’t leave Merlin all that comforted.  
   
Yes, the boy seemed to appreciate the man, but who was that man in the first place? The man who was looking after another version of Merlin himself? No matter what the boy had told him, Merlin couldn’t ignore his instinct that this Gwydion was really him from another world. He couldn’t let go of that conviction. Zlota agreed with his belief. There was little doubt in her mind that the strange boy was truly an alternate version of Merlin.  
   
Merlin wished his curiosity could be sated. He doubted he would see either of those two otherworldly people again. So he was left with only his questions.  
   
~ * ~  
   
When Arthur and Blakeney arrived at the king’s study, the king wasn’t there. This hallway leading up to the study was devoid of dragons. Though near the study entrance, there were a few very small – the size of mice – dragons playing with each other with one or two breathing fire every so often.  
   
“He should be here soon,” Blakeney indicated.  
   
“Are we going to wait outside the room then?”  
   
“Unless you want to meet Kilgharrah. He’s in the study now as he usually is. The king’s dragon can be a little anxious around strangers. It’s best not to surprise him.”  
   
“Right, of course,” Arthur said with a sigh.  
   
So this King Merlin had his own dragon. In this magic world, that made sense. Clearly this world had an abundance of dragons. Maybe even as many dragons as there were people?  
   
A few minutes passed before the king was seen coming down the corridor. The first thing that Arthur noticed was different about him was the king’s trimmed beard. It made the man look more mature, he supposed, and older. Though from his young face, Arthur didn’t think the king was that much older than his Merlin.  
   
As he approached them, Arthur took in the king’s attire – certainly expected of a king and as far as can be from what his Merlin wore.  
   
King Merlin had on a deep blue shirt and black breeches.  
   
A necklace with the kingdom’s coat of arms circled his neck and a ring with a fire-colored stone was on one hand. Golden bracelets, some with dragon and phoenix designs on them, were on both wrists. There was no crown on his head.  
   
“Hello. It’s good to meet you properly now,” King Merlin greeted Arthur.  
   
“Yes. I agree.”  
   
“I know in your world that your Merlin was your servant,” the king noted. “But I assume you know for formality’s sake that you should address me as ‘Your Majesty’ or the associated titles, as you prefer.”  
   
“Yes, I understand. It is admittedly startling to see another version of Merlin. You resemble him so well. Except for the beard though. Merlin doesn’t have one.”  
   
The king laughed, amused by his comment. His blue eyes twinkled. “I admit myself that I’m not quite sure if I like this beard or not. I’m trying it out, you see. What do you think?” He asked of Arthur.  
   
“I personally like you without it,” Blakeney spoke up.  
   
“I would have to agree, but I think it may grow on me, Your Majesty,” Arthur decided, choosing to be diplomatic about it.  
   
“Well thank you, but there’s no need to lie to me. I could tell you were only being polite. But no matter,” the king shrugged it off with a small smile.  
   
Then he reached up to take something off from his head. Arthur was surprised to see that it was a very small black dragon the size of a mouse in his hand. The dragon’s dark color had blended in well with the king’s black hair. The king held out the dragon to Blakeney.  
   
“Blakeney, could you take this dragon and return it to the black dragon sanctuary? The little creature landed on my head and fell asleep.”  
   
Blakeney nodded and he gently took the still fast asleep dragon from the other man. King Merlin dismissed him and after inclining his head at Arthur in goodbye, Blakeney left them.  
   
A blue and silver light shot past Arthur.  
   
“What was that?” He asked as he stepped aside so as not to get hit by the light.  
   
The king waved his hand. “Oh that’s just Archimedes, my phoenix. Archimedes! Come here please,” he commanded of him.  
   
The stream of blue-silver light turned around and once it reached the king, it settled on his shoulder. Arthur watched in astonishment as the light transformed into a beautiful dark blue phoenix with silver-tipped wings and eerie silver eyes.  
   
“My Merlin’s daemon is a phoenix. Her name is Zlota. But she’s a scarlet gold one. Is yours a male?”  
   
The king nodded as the phoenix, Archimedes, ruffled his feathers looking as proud as Merlin’s Zlota did on occasion when she wished to show off.  
   
“Ah yes. How interesting isn’t it how some things are similar in different worlds?” The king mused. “Though in my world, only royalty and nobility may have phoenixes. But we do offer phoenix eggs as gifts to well-deserving people. So to keep a phoenix is not an entirely exclusive affair. Still, they prefer to live away from humans. Fortunately, phoenixes are not completely against being partnered with them if they are good people.”  
   
Arthur nodded, understanding. He could see Zlota being just fine on her own. Well, if she wasn’t a daemon and simply just a phoenix. The nature of being a daemon didn’t allow Zlota to live apart from Merlin after all.  
   
They entered the study after King Merlin apologetically informed the little dragons that Kilgharrah didn’t want their company at the moment. That the dragon was in one of his moods.  
   
The king beckoned Arthur to come inside the study first. Arthur did so with a little trepidation due to the dragon being in the room.  
   
“Kilgharrah,” the king said warningly as the black dragon proceeded to growl at Arthur. Krola growled back at the other creature, baring her sharp teeth in challenge. But at least the king’s dragon made no move to attack Arthur, though the creature’s golden eyes flashed in threat. The dragon was the size of one horse and half of another one – a little bigger than that of the dragon rider’s – Will’s – golden-streaked dragon Arthur had seen earlier.  
   
“He won’t hurt you, I assure you,” the king told Arthur. His phoenix, Archimedes, settled on his perch that was near the desk. “Sit down, sit down,” he asked of Arthur amicably.  
   
The king waved his hand at the big gilded desk with a glass front. Against one side of the room, bookshelves held a vast array of books. The floor was snow white with painted golden, silver and blue dragons adding color to the floor’s blank canvas. An arched opening to a wide outdoor balcony was behind the king’s desk.  
   
Arthur sat down at the desk while the king persuaded Kilgharrah to go to the balcony instead of glaring at Arthur the whole time.  
   
The dragon grudgingly agreed and disappeared in a display of black and golden light. He reappeared on the balcony.  
   
King Merlin sighed as he sat down at the desk across from Arthur.  
   
“Kilgharrah is a guard dragon, and a black dragon to boot. Such dragons can be very protective of their human partners, I would say. If you happen to get on Kilgharrah’s bad side, your fate will surely not be a pleasant one. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior while you’re here. Isn’t that right, Kilgharrah?”  
   
“I am not a child,” the dragon protested petulantly from the balcony, puffing out a burst of fire from his mouth. “He’s an otherworlder. Can’t be trusted,” he remarked gruffly.  
   
The king shook his head. “Nevermind. Just pretend he isn’t there,” he advised Arthur.  
   
Arthur thought that was rather hard to do considering the large size of the dragon and how his golden eyes kept looking at Arthur like the dragon was waiting for the right moment to strike and rip him to shreds.  
   
But Arthur tried his best. At least he had Krola with him. She sat beside him, ever alert and her silver eyes surveying the room and, of course, the dragon.  
   
“I’m curious: did you ever touch your Merlin’s daemon?” asked the king in mild interest. “I understand it’s a taboo to do such a thing, but aren’t you two close?”  
   
“Yes, we are. But no. I have never touched Zlota. Merlin said I couldn’t -- that he’d be in pain.”  
   
“Even after the both of you have established a strong bond? Shouldn’t you and your Merlin easily be able to touch one another’s daemons?”  
   
“Merlin touched Krola a few times in the past. I wasn’t uncomfortable. Why are you asking me this?” Arthur wondered in slight irritation. He was perplexed by the question about Merlin’s daemon.  
   
The king shrugged. “I just find it sad that you two are so close and you can’t touch Merlin’s daemon as you should. Doesn’t that upset you? To know he will be in pain if you touch his daemon? Have you tried?”  
   
Arthur shook his head. “No, of course not. If Merlin was sure he’d be pained by it, then the last thing I would do is subject him to that. I didn’t want to test the idea. I just went by Merlin’s word. That was enough for me,” he said firmly.  
   
“Perhaps you should ask him if there was any particular reason for why he’d find it painful. Surely there must be a good reason. Your close bond with him should be enough to allow this touching free of hurt, shouldn’t it?”  
   
“Do you think he’s keeping a secret from me? Is that it?” Arthur concluded.  
   
“Maybe. It’s your choice to ask or not, but you at least have to be curious about it. If your bond with him is strong, then I have no doubt your Merlin will confide the truth to you if you inquire it of him.”  
   
“All right…okay, I’ll ask him,” Arthur decided a bit hesitantly. Now that it was on his mind, he was curious about why he couldn’t easily touch Zlota without Merlin being in pain.  
   
“Very good. Now I need to let you know that you’ll be speaking in the hall to an audience. I only want you to tell them about the world you came from, what you have gone through. Everyone is interested in hearing what life was like for you in your world. I hope you wouldn’t mind satisfying their curiosity?”  
   
“But why? Why do you want me to give my life story to strangers?” Arthur demanded, uneasy about the odd request.  
   
“Simply put, the more you know about someone, the more comfortable you feel around them. That’s why I’m asking you to do this. You are our guest after all, and we seek only to know more about you,” the king explained smoothly.  
   
“You took me without my consent… I thought I was a prisoner,” Arthur admitted frankly, his tone coated in accusation.  
   
“I do truly apologize for bringing you here without your permission, but we didn’t think you’d agree to being separated from your Merlin. So we acted accordingly. Despite the questionable method of your taking, my intent was _not_ to treat you like a common prisoner. Your role in fighting this great battle is very important. It would be wrong of me to treat you like a criminal.”  
   
“But I don’t know exactly what that role is,” Arthur said slowly.  
   
“No, but you shouldn’t worry about it. Are you worried?”  
   
“No,” Arthur said promptly and then he put the concern out of his mind. Like Blakeney had said, it wasn’t as important as simply knowing that he was helping a good cause.  
   
King Merlin had little more to say to him after that and soon they prepared to leave. The king put on a dark jacket over his shirt. At his back, he donned a cape that had the dragon and phoenix sigil blazing out of the material’s darkness. As he put a golden crown on his head, he assured his dragon that he’d be fine without him. And that if he needed Kilgharrah to light a fire – said with a teasing smile – then the dragon would know.  
   
Arthur sincerely thought Kilgharrah wanted to “light a fire” in a room where Arthur was the sole occupant.  
   
Charming dragon, really. For his part, Arthur was more than ready to depart from the study. At least he wouldn’t have the dragon’s piercing gaze set upon him any longer.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Merlin returned to Camelot late that afternoon. When he arrived in the other Merlin’s chambers, he found his alternate self smiling. But upon seeing that Merlin was in the room, the non-daemon Merlin frowned a little and possibly appeared worried as well.  
   
“Hi. Is there anything wrong?” Merlin asked his other self in concern.  
   
The other Merlin shook his head quickly, smiling again to prove his point. “No, no,” he reassured Merlin. “Where were you? And where’s Arthur?” He inquired.  
   
Merlin shrugged. “We decided to spend the day apart from each other. Can’t go wrong with a break, right? Arthur and I planned to see each other again by this evening. That’s all,” Merlin lied with a small smile.  
   
He didn’t want to bring his other self into the strangeness surrounding Arthur’s disappearance.  
   
His alternate self raised his eyebrow. He seemed to not buy a word of Merlin’s explanation. “I don’t believe you,” the other Merlin told him flatly, crossing his arms against his chest.  
   
The non-daemon Merlin didn’t look happy.  
   
Merlin sighed. He didn’t wish to get into an argument with another version of himself. But he also didn’t much fancy getting the other man involved in this mess – whatever was going on. Sometimes the more one knew, the more danger they put themselves in. His other self would be safer to be blissfully uninvolved.  
   
“I had a feeling you’d say that. But that’s all I’m going to tell you. I’m sorry,” Merlin finished sincerely, hoping his apology would be satisfactory.  
   
His alternate self frowned. He sat down on his narrow bed. “If there’s anything you or Arthur need help with, I’d be more than willing--” his other self offered.  
   
Merlin sat down in the chair near the bed. Zlota perched herself on the back of the chair, her luminous golden eyes ever watchful.  
   
Merlin reached out and grasped the other man’s hand. “Thank you for the offer, but really, you’ve been a great help. What would make me happy is that you will form a strong bond of your own with your Arthur. That one day, the right day, he will know who you truly are.”  
   
The other Merlin smiled brilliantly then. “He _knows_. Arthur knows about my magic. And he’s all right with it. At least I think he is. I’m nearly sure there won’t be guards arresting me come tomorrow morning.” He shrugged, appearing rather unconcerned.  
   
Merlin was surprised yet happy for his alternate self as well. “Congratulations,” he praised him, smiling back at him. “You didn’t accidentally reveal yourself, did you?”  
   
“No, no. I was doing my best to be careful. Arthur was the one who brought it up. We were – well, more like Arthur – hunting and I got hurt. It was only a small cut. I stumbled over a fallen branch, I think, and my hand got scratched and bled a little. It wasn’t anything worth making a fuss about. But Arthur stunned me when he took my wounded hand and he said, ‘You’re a sorcerer, Merlin, you can heal it, can’t you?’ And after I finished gaping…er…you can imagine I didn’t know how to react or what to say. Or whether I should’ve made a good run for it.”  
   
“I felt the same way when my Arthur cornered me and persuaded me to just tell him about my magic. I’m guessing by the fact you’re still alive that Arthur assured you that he would accept you and your magic?” Merlin assumed.  
   
The other Merlin nodded. “Yes, and he sounded sincere, so I think, _I hope_ , that will bode well for me. And that I’ll survive the rest of the week with no execution planned at the end of it.”  
   
“I wish you the best. You know your Arthur better than me. Don’t doubt your judgment. It should be fine,” Merlin advised him with a smile.  
   
“I’ll try,” he said. Then hesitantly, his other self changed the subject. His expression shifted to a somber one. “There’s something else too – some bad news for you. The Morgana of my world has Seen bits of the future. She told me what she Saw, Merlin. She said that you would meet a blonde girl, and give her a good luck charm. This little girl would be kidnapped by a dragon. And then you would meet the lucky orphan who brings unlucky tidings for you. If you met him, then it is a warning to you.”  
   
“A warning that trouble will come my way, I’m assuming?”  
   
The other Merlin nodded reluctantly. “Yes. I thought it was mad. I didn’t believe her…a girl kidnapped by a dragon? That’s strange even for me.”  
   
“I don’t know about that…but I have met a blonde girl and I gave her a dragon carving as a good luck charm. She was searching for dragons…”  
   
“Then she must have found one who could talk most likely. You can easily persuade someone to do something if you say the right words. Do you have a talking dragon in your world who gives you cryptic advice?” the other Merlin asked.  
   
“Yes,” Merlin confirmed with a small groan.  
   
The daemon-less Merlin smiled. “So you understand how frustrating that dragon is.”  
   
“Unfortunately,” said Merlin resignedly. Then he hesitantly admitted, “I met a boy too. He resembled me when I was about ten. He said he was a lucky orphan… but--”  
   
“Maybe you should be more careful now,” the daemon-less Merlin advised, looking especially concerned now that Merlin confirmed meeting a lucky orphan.  
   
Merlin nodded. Of course he felt uneasy about a vision that didn’t bode well for him. Caution was the best action to take now. He decided that he’d certainly feel better about the odd situation when Arthur returned. Merlin was sure he would come back to him.  
   
~ * ~


	6. The Return Home (Cont'd)

Word count: 8,916

It all started pleasantly enough. The throne room was like the one Arthur was familiar with at his Camelot. But this one was brighter, which was little surprise considering the ceiling looked like the sky outside. The sun’s light penetrated the room and Arthur could only see the sky’s clear blue when he looked up. It was like he was outside. Beautifully done tapestries hung on the walls. Each tapestry depicted magical creatures – Arthur wasn’t surprised to see dragons and fairies on a few of the tapestries. An eerie-looking raven appeared on one tapestry with diamonds – acting more like water did -- springing forth from a white marble fountain beside the bird.  
   
He discovered that King Merlin was married to a Queen Freya. Arthur knew he shouldn’t find the news shocking. A king should wed soon so that an heir would be produced and the kingdom would have stability with the assurance of a male heir. Arthur was especially familiar with all that considering he had had the importance of this drilled into him since he was young.  
   
Yet this was _Merlin_. Yes, it was an alternate version of Merlin who was more or less a stranger to Arthur, but he still couldn’t help his emotional reaction. A fleeting sense of loss swept over Arthur as he was introduced to the queen. He hoped that he would never lose his world’s Merlin. Despite the prospect of his Merlin marrying someone else and removing himself from Arthur’s life was low, Arthur still had an irrational fear of losing him.  
   
Despite his concerns, Arthur had to admit that this queen was friendly enough. It was hard not to like her. Freya was pretty with dark hair and warm brown eyes. She wore a blue dress with a tight bodice but with wide sleeves and a silver and gold flower design was at the waist. Sapphire jewels adorned her hair and a sapphire-bedecked silver crown sat on her head.  
   
She had a pale blue female phoenix with silver eyes named Kastella. Archimedes was perched on the back of the king’s throne and Kastella was in a similar position upon the queen’s throne. The two phoenixes looked to be having a silent conversation with one another.  
   
Blakeney was standing by the king’s side and some other advisors were present as well. Morgan was there at the front near the other ladies of the court. But she was talking to the Court Physician, who to Arthur’s bemusement, was a red-headed woman named Kara. Arthur easily recognized that there weren’t many men in the hall except most notably a few knights stationed by the king. More women were present than men while the number of boys was greater than that of older men. After Blakeney telling him about the war, Arthur concluded that most of Camelot’s men were fighting the battle against this darkness.  
   
As Arthur stood facing the audience, he told them how he grew up, about the daemons, and the anti-magic Camelot of his world thanks to his infuriating father.  
   
The pair he had seen earlier -- Will and Lyra – were a part of the audience. Although now a young blonde girl was with them, standing close to Lyra as the younger girl seemed a bit nervous and overwhelmed about being there. A blue and purple dragon that was almost the same size as Krola was beside the blonde girl. One of the girl’s hands was on the dragon’s head. The red dragon carving that the girl clutched in her hand left Arthur thinking that clearly the little girl really liked dragons.  
   
In response to the fate of the dragons in Arthur’s world, Will spoke up and said his own father would find the whole matter blasphemous and the worst crime. Will’s father apparently bred dragons for a living, which explained Will being a dragon rider, Arthur deduced.  
   
And then Lyra asked about Krola – if when Arthur was younger, she had been a wolf pup to match his age.  
   
Arthur told her that yes, that was how it worked. Each daemon aged as the person grew older. Yet Krola had been more than one animal – frequently a wolf pup -- before she settled into her permanent wolf form when he had turned eleven.  
   
Arthur saw the little blonde girl coo – probably imagining a white wolf pup – after he verified Lyra’s remark. Of course little wolf pups would be considered adorable to girls.  
   
The other women – Lyra included – all had similar “oh she must have been a precious little wolf pup!” reactions while Krola didn’t know how to react and just asked Arthur, “Why must they all do that?”  
   
“Oh, admit it, Krola,” Arthur prodded her teasingly. “You _were_ cute when you were a pup. Remember when Morgana used to tell you that?”  
   
Krola huffed, and she looked slightly disgruntled, but Arthur just knew that she was pleased at the positive attention she was receiving.    
   
Unfortunately, the proceedings turned sour a moment later when Blakeney fell to the ground. Blood was coming out of his nose and eyes. Morgan and the Court Physician Kara immediately went to him.  
   
King Merlin nodded at them. “Take Blakeney out of here,” he directed them and Arthur swore he heard the king’s voice break a little with emotion. Certainly, he wasn’t happy about Blakeney being harmed. “It appears that the pest has arrived.”  
   
Blakeney’s face had paled quickly, now a sickly white, and he seemed about ready to vomit. After placing a firm grip on Blakeney’s arm, Morgan disappeared by magic with Blakeney vanishing with her. The Court Physician disappeared at the same time.  
   
A man in a dark hooded robe appeared a few feet away from the king and queen. Even though Arthur was near the stranger, he discovered that the man’s face was hidden in shadow. He couldn’t see his face at all.    
   
“I was doing him a _favour_. I’ve been practicing and I’ve gotten quite good,” said the hooded man in a self-satisfied tone of voice.  
   
Arthur heard others in the room whisper in alarm, “It’s the Prince of Darkness!” while a few also called the hooded man, “The Mad Prince.”  
   
Then the man turned to look at Arthur and to Arthur’s confusion, the man began laughing. He now had an inkling why some in the audience had dubbed him, “The Mad Prince.” The hooded man had his head back and he was clutching his stomach, he was laughing so hard.  
   
Krola growled threateningly, feeling just as taken aback as Arthur was at the hooded man. The king’s dark blue phoenix, Archimedes, unsettled Arthur as well. He had never even seen his Merlin’s Zlota be so still and unblinking. Arthur wondered if Archimedes was anticipating pecking the strange man’s eyes out. He didn’t doubt that the king’s phoenix knew exactly where the man’s eyes were despite his face being concealed.  
   
For his part, King Merlin looked unhappy with his mouth set in a thin line. He gave Freya a significant look, speaking to her mentally as well Arthur thought. A moment later, the queen and her phoenix reluctantly left the hall by disappearing magically.  
   
“Are you done?” The king asked wearily of the hooded man.  
   
The man’s laughter subsided and he answered the king, “Touchy, aren’t we?” Said the man in amusement.  
   
Arthur noticed how most of the people in the hall had disappeared – leaving via magic as the queen had. Will, Lyra and the small blonde girl with her dragon had gone shortly after Blakeney had collapsed.  
   
The king gave the man a sharp look and then he addressed his subjects, “I think it best that everyone should leave for your own safety. We all know that the Prince of Darkness likes his wretched tricks. I will make sure the Prince has left our world once he is finished with whatever he feels he has to say. Sir Leontes, Sir Gwaine, and Sir Kay--” King Merlin nodded toward the three of his knights, who returned the acknowledgement and stayed in the room as others departed via their magic.  
   
Arthur assumed the three knights were there for added protection to the king. Each knight had their swords at the ready and to Arthur’s surprise, each sword literally glowed. Could it be that in this world of magic, the swords held magical enhancements as well? It wasn’t that farfetched of an assumption. Thinking about swords had Arthur recall his own Excalibur. He really should find out what had happened to his most treasured possession. He had almost forgotten about the sword after everything else he had learned today and the new people he had met.  
   
Once the room had mostly emptied – only the “Prince of Darkness”, the king, the knights and Arthur himself remained; Arthur took it upon himself to speak up.  
   
“Who are you?” Arthur asked of the man. “What do you want?”  
   
“I’m the Prince of Darkness, didn’t you hear? I’m honoured to be such a pest to the esteemed King Merlin of Camelot,” The hooded man said bitterly. He looked like he was going to shoot a spell at the king, but Sir Gwaine stood in his way, his glowing sword ready to attack.  
   
“Watch it, you fucker,” Sir Gwaine said to the Prince.  
   
“Just say what you want to say or we will fight and you will _lose_ ,” said the king firmly. “You are in my world and you are alone. You aren’t mad enough to try to fight me, are you now?”  
   
“I just wanted express my _congratulations_ on your success,” the Prince said in obvious sarcasm.  
   
“How is the White Diamond Clan treating your forces? Frustrating enough for you?” The king asked with a smirk.  
   
“Colourless non-humans, the bloody lot of them,” he replied, looking especially annoyed.  
   
Arthur got the sense that this White Diamond Clan was a thorn in the Prince’s side.  
   
“They are more human than you will ever be. So you admit that they do fight well?”  
   
“They fight like the bastards of the gods,” he only said.  
   
Arthur felt that the Prince had meant to insult the Clan’s fighting prowess; but still…there was some admission there of their commendable skills. After all, even if one was a bastard of a god, the person still had the blood of a god within him and that was undoubtedly impressive, bastard or no.  
   
“But I think our little ‘friend’ here would like to know more about the fight,” The Prince declared, nodding at Arthur.  
   
“What is this about?” Arthur demanded to know, turning to the king.  
   
The king sighed. “The Prince of Darkness and his forces from the Dark World is who we are fighting against. This man is thirsty for revenge and would rather force a living hell onto all the other worlds in existence to satisfy that revenge.”  
   
“All right,” Arthur said, nodding. He could have guessed that much.  
   
The Prince of Darkness looked ready to interject, but the king put up his hand. “You can add your own twist to the story once I have my say. I don’t need to remind you that this is my world, my rule, don’t I?”  
   
“That’s exactly what the problem is,” the Prince shot back, but then he didn’t say anymore, backing down, when the three knights gave him challenging looks. He appeared to realize that it wasn’t worth causing trouble at least now. That’s what Arthur thought, but he couldn’t tell for certain with the Prince’s concealed face. “Fine. Speak your lies,” the Prince said with quiet contempt.  
   
“How long has your daemon world been the way it has? With your souls outside of your bodies? In the form of animals who speak?” The king asked of Arthur in such an informal tone that Arthur was thrown off by it.  
   
“I never thought about it,” Arthur said frankly, shrugging. “Probably for centuries. Since my world first came into existence I would imagine.”  
   
“This world as you’re seeing it now is a new creation at least by your world’s standards,” the king explained. “My world went through a great change almost twenty-five years ago. If you had called this world, the World of Magic, before that time then it wouldn’t have made sense. We used to be more like your world, I would say, excluding the daemons, but with more non-magic users than magic users. Two years after the change began; I was born into a rapidly altering world.”  
   
“A conspiracy by magic users to gain control of this world,” the Prince interrupted with disdain.  
   
The king frowned. “There has been no definitive evidence of what caused this unfortunate circumstance. We believe it was caused by the mother goddess. We don’t know why it was done, but it happened and regrettably, things had to be changed.”  
   
“What was the great change?” Arthur asked. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know because it didn’t sound good at all.  
   
“It was a plague that caused all those who didn’t possess magic in my world to grow gravely ill and die,” the king confided sadly. “When I was very young, the plague was at its height and not much could be done for the non-magic users suffering from the plague. This was a widespread disaster and no one knew how to control it. All we knew was that the magic users were spared the effects of the plague while others succumbed to it with no hope of a cure. Before the plague hit, the king of Camelot was not a magic user. As you can expect, he died from the plague. Sorcerers in this kingdom gathered and declared that my father, Balinor, should be the new king of Camelot. That with this changing world, a powerful magic user should be the leader of this kingdom. And my father was undoubtedly a powerful sorcerer and more importantly, he was well-liked as well. Other kingdoms throughout our world followed our example and installed popular magic users as rulers. And then my mother gave birth to me during the early days of my father’s reign.”  
   
Arthur wondered what his Merlin would think of this. It definitely put a dark cloud over this World of Magic that a deadly plague altered the world’s population make-up so drastically. He also couldn’t help but agree with the Prince that the plague’s cause could be a conspiracy.  
   
It was rather suspicious and he could see the magic users, through their magic somehow, initiating the plague to gain control of a world where they were a minority. The magic users benefited the most from the plague. King Merlin’s belief that the mother goddess had engineered the plague seemed hard to believe compared to the other explanation.  
   
Although, who else but a goddess would have that kind of great power to cause a plague to sweep through an entire world?  
   
Arthur wasn’t sure who to believe, but he did know that the Prince of Darkness unnerved him while King Merlin seemed more honest and friendlier with him. So it was easier to support the king’s side of the story.  
   
“Your mother is a sorceress, right? With only magic users surviving…and it’s just in my world, Merlin’s mother is far from a magic user as far as I know.”  
   
The king nodded. “Yes, my mother possesses magic. She’s an Empath meaning she is able to feel what other living beings – both people and animals – are feeling. Their joys, their sorrows, their anger…” he said a little sadly. “It is quite tiring for her to control such an emotionally-powered gift, so she’s currently retired to a more peaceful location after my father’s passing a year ago. I visit her of course.”  
   
The Prince cut in, asking, “So where exactly is your mother?”  
   
“You’ll never find her,” the king said sharply before he returned his attention to Arthur, “Anyway, back to the story. The king before my father – the one who didn’t possess magic – had a son. He was two years older than me. According to what my father told me, the boy had ailed from the plague as his father had. The boy didn’t have magic in him. Though this young prince was strong and he did survive longer than expected. Yet still, there was nothing that could be done to cure him of his sickness completely. He could never be healthy again.”  
   
“You’re a damn liar!” The Prince yelled in accusation.  
   
Arthur was beginning to deduce that this boy had to be the Prince of Darkness especially judging by the Prince’s reaction. But as to what exactly happened in the intervening years, he was at a loss for an answer. He needed to know more.  
   
The king glared at the Prince. “Let me finish,” he told the hooded man calmly.  
   
The Prince looked to be simmering in his anger, but didn’t say anymore and instead, he kept a careful eye on the knights’ glowing swords.  
   
“The boy was placed into his own bedchambers here in Camelot. My father said that he wanted the boy to be comfortable as he lived out his last days. When the child was five, he was given a little black wolf pup to keep him company and serve as a comfort to him. The boy quickly came to adore the wolf pup. My father told me that the boy even named him – Achilles, I believe. But then some months later, the court physician entered the child’s chambers to discover the child gone, vanished. And the wolf pup…” The king paused, his face in a grimace and he looked unwilling to continue.  
   
Arthur was growing suspicious of the Prince’s identity. The boy had a black wolf pup at one point and his story could have echoed what might have happened to Arthur and his father, King Uther, had the daemon world been dealt the plague. And here was Arthur with a wolf as his daemon. It can’t have been a coincidence that this boy had received a wolf pup as a pet. Could this Prince of Darkness be an alternate version of him?  
   
He recalled the king’s past words: _“The Prince of Darkness and his forces from the Dark World is who we are fighting against. This man is thirsty for revenge and would rather force a living hell onto all the other worlds in existence to satisfy that revenge.”_  
   
This was getting to be too much for him.  
   
“Are you me from this world? Or the Dark World now – wherever you call home?” Arthur demanded to know.  
   
The Prince didn’t say a word and only turned to face Arthur with his concealed face. He wouldn’t even do Arthur the courtesy of revealing his face to prove the truth of Arthur’s words.  
   
Arthur addressed the king instead. King Merlin looked rather resigned and a bit unsurprised that Arthur had figured it out.  
   
“The Prince of Darkness wants to reclaim what could have been his, right? Prior to the plague? He feels that he was denied his birthright because of a plague that suspiciously could’ve been caused by magic users.”  
   
“The trouble is that he wishes to destroy all the worlds in retribution. Unfortunately, it’s not such a simple revenge plot, is it?”  
   
“The bigger, the better,” the Prince said almost gleefully.  
   
“But _why_?” Arthur was honestly baffled by the Prince’s strategy, if there even was one. “Why are you hoping to punish all the worlds when your main concern is with this Camelot in this world? What is the point of making all those innocent people in other worlds suffer?”  
   
“Because I loved that wolf pup more than anything else in the world. The man who came to take me to the Dark World – he told me that King Balinor had ordered my Achilles to be killed. Apparently, my closeness to _my_ wolf was making me live longer than I should have been,” The Prince said in outrage. “That according to the new King, the wolf needed to be put down so the plague would finally kill me off. That he shouldn’t have given me the wolf pup anyway since the creature wasn’t making me die any faster. If I would have lived any longer, then I could contest my right to Camelot’s throne. Of course King Balinor didn’t want that because after all, he had his own son’s future to secure. I was in the way,” remarked the Prince bitterly. He glared at King Merlin.  
   
“That man was lying to you,” King Merlin said firmly. “And my father would never, _never_ have allowed the wolf pup to be beheaded like that and then to be displayed on your bed for you to see. My father was never that callous. And since he is now deceased, I pray you would not speak ill of the dead, but considering it’s you, I am asking for too much.”  
   
The Prince of Darkness made a snide retort back.  
   
Arthur was horrified to hear that a dead beheaded -- which made it all the more terrible -- wolf was placed in the sight of a five-year old, one who had viewed the creature as a beloved pet. He felt like he could vomit at the thought.  
   
But did King Balinor order the wolf pup to be killed or did the man who took the Prince really lie to him? Maybe the wolf killing had been an orchestrated set-up by the man to convince the Prince that this new King wanted him dead.  
   
Should he side with an alternate version of himself or with this King Merlin?  
   
So she could speak privately with him, Krola stood up with her paws on his chest for support. She whispered to him, “They call him the _Mad Prince_ , Arthur. I don’t trust he’s of sound mind. No matter if he’s another version of you. Though it _is_ terrible what happened to that black wolf.”  
   
“All right, all right. You do have a point,” Arthur conceded.  
   
He stroked Krola behind the ears before she set her paws back down on the ground again.  
   
“After losing my Achilles like that, I found it hard to care for anyone else or anything…and then I thought…why not make all the worlds out there feel just as miserable as me? Luckily, dark magic has given me hope that I’d achieve this goal. I may not have had magic in me at birth, but I learned that I could still possess magic despite not being born with the talent.”  
   
“But to gain magic when you were never meant to have it takes a toll. On your humanity,” argued the king.  
   
“Humanity is weakness!” The Prince exclaimed defiantly. “Magic makes you powerful. I would have thought you’d agree considering your little plague was all about making magic users rulers of this world.”  
   
The king looked affronted and he defended himself. “I have _never_ advocated dark magic. The way you’re using magic is despicable. And you _do_ care about someone.”  
   
“Ah yes…well, it must really make you mad that you can do nothing about it. Seer after Seer. All saying the same thing. But I’m telling you this now: you may have round one with your pawn, Your Majesty, but I will have round two!” The Prince declared fervently.  
   
Then the Prince finally revealed his face and Arthur was shocked to see a likeness of himself, but with completely black eyes. Even the whites of his eyes were an unrelenting black. Like one would expect on the devil himself.  
   
The Prince of Darkness formed a big fireball in his hand and shot it at the King. Sir Leontes’ sword blocked the fireball’s path without the blade getting damaged in the slightest. The magical glow clearly offered a solid protective barrier on the sword to halt magical attacks.  
   
Then Kilgharrah appeared in a burst of black and golden light. With great force, the dragon pushed the Prince to the ground and then he scratched one side of his face with his claw.  
   
“One day I _will_ eat your heart with a song in my own,” Kilgharrah threatened the Prince. He growled at him.  
   
Archimedes looked intent on joining the dragon in his assault, but the king told the phoenix to stay put. Ruffling his feathers, he shifted to the other side of the throne and did a weird little pacing, hopping routine from one side to the other. Arthur thought it seemed like the phoenix was excited about what the dragon was doing?  
   
“Kilgharrah, please,” King Merlin pleaded with him quietly.  
   
Reluctantly, the dragon extricated himself from on top of the Prince.  
   
The Prince stood up roughly. He touched the part of his face that had been injured and he shrugged.  
   
“Well, good luck to you,” he said to Arthur in a sarcasm-laden tone. “And by that I mean bad luck, very, _very_ bad luck.”  
   
Then the Prince of Darkness addressed King Merlin, his smile cold as he spoke, “Your wife is with child, isn’t she? How nice,” he said in biting sarcasm.  
   
The king frowned.  
   
And again, true to his “Mad Prince” title, he laughed. His mirthless laughter echoed in the hall after he vanished in a display of dark clouds and lightning.  
   
“I think you need some rest now. You’re feeling overwhelmed, I’m sure,” the king acknowledged.  
   
“I don’t know who to believe,” Arthur admitted frankly.  
   
“Understandable. I don’t profess that I am without fault. I am only human after all as you are. But I want to prevent the destruction of all the worlds. I’d hope you’d agree with that?”  
   
Arthur nodded. “Yes. Of course,” he said readily. “Will Blakeney be all right?”  
   
The king smiled lightly. “He should be fine.”  
   
“Blakeney’s stronger than he looks,” Sir Gwaine assured with a quick grin.  
   
“Can you – this is probably the last thing I should be asking, but I’m curious – what sort of magic can you do? The extent of it? You said your father was a powerful sorcerer and your mother is an Empath? Did you inherit her abilities?”  
   
“Yes, I do in fact have some empathetic abilities after my mother. I’m not as strong as her in that area as that is her specialty, but not mine. But it’s there regardless. I can show you my transformation into the five elements. Wood, fire, earth, water and metal – I can easily turn into all of them.”  
   
Arthur nodded. “Please. I’d like to see it, Your Majesty.”  
   
And Arthur couldn’t help but be awed. King Merlin turned into the different elements, but he still maintained his human form despite being composed of fire or soil from the earth. When the king transformed into water, he was able to change his shape and his water form came together to create a large puddle of water on the floor.  
   
Arthur wasn’t sure that his Merlin could do this sort of elemental transformation. He didn’t doubt his Merlin being capable at some point of achieving this skill. He just had never seen Merlin do it.  
   
But here was an alternate version of Merlin, about the same age as Arthur’s Merlin, and he had the talent to become the elements. It was one of the most interesting displays of magic Arthur had seen.  
   
“I admit that I’m impressed,” Arthur told him honestly once the king returned to his normal form.  
   
“Thank you. Now you should go. You could probably appreciate some time to yourself to think over what you have learned now…”  
   
“All right. I’m free to go on my own? I’m still not sure that I’m not a prisoner.”  
   
“You can go outside if you like. There are certain restrictions, of course, but you’ll know if there’s a place where you can’t venture into. Your sword will be returned to you, undamaged I assure you, when I’ve decided it’s time for you to leave my world. But you have the rest of the day to yourself.”  
   
“So you did take Excalibur… even though you clearly have other means of transportation between worlds.”  
   
“Yes, and it was only to have a closer look at the sword. As you say, we do have other ways of interworld travel, but we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to investigate what makes Excalibur work. We were very careful with it to insure the sword was returned to you, the rightful owner, in excellent condition,” the king said smoothly.  
   
Arthur sighed. “All right. As long as you give my sword back to me,” he conceded.  
   
The fact that the king had acknowledged that Arthur was Excalibur’s true owner calmed Arthur. At least King Merlin respected Arthur’s ownership of the sword.  
   
And with a dismissal, Arthur left the hall with Krola close by his side. He made the easy decision to head outside. He needed some fresh air.  
   
~ * ~  
   
“Did Lancelot communicate with you on the Prince’s departure, Sire?” Sir Kay asked of the king.  
   
King Merlin nodded. “The Prince has left our world. All is well in that regard. Now I think it is time to bring the orphan to this world. I believe the Prince is using this young Merlin as a power source for his forces fighting against us.”  
   
“As any version of Merlin has considerable power at his disposal,” Sir Leontes said. “The Prince found it easy to take advantage of the parentless child. He gave him the love and affection that the other Merlin desired.”  
   
“Yes. But I have more right than him to the child. He is an alternate version of me after all,” King Merlin reasoned, strong in his conviction. “Though we can not destroy the orphan as the prophecy says, we can at least remove him from the Dark World.”  
   
“Wait. So he’ll stop being a power source for the Mad Prince’s forces if he’s taken out of that world?” Sir Gwaine confirmed. Then he realized something, “But the Prince is _not_ going to be happy about it. Is it a good idea we raise his ire like that?”  
   
“It’s unlike you to be worried about that, Gwaine,” the king pointed out with a small smile. Gwaine joked about something being in the ale this week.  
   
“Still yes, you are right,” the king agreed. “But keeping the orphan here _will_ be worth the cost. Our world – and the other worlds as well – will have that additional guarantee of a weakened opposition. All of you heard what the Prince of Darkness declared – that he’d have round two. Just placing faith in the betrayal between the Arthur and Merlin of the Daemon World is simply not enough.”  
   
The three knights agreed with the king’s words. King Merlin then decided to call a meeting with the knights and his advisors to discuss the “Capture the Orphan” mission in further detail. Before the meeting, the king checked out the star cat litter as he wanted to give one of the black kittens to Blakeney. To hopefully help in comforting him as he recovered from the Prince’s magical attack.  
   
~ * ~

  
Arthur walked across the courtyard and he appreciated getting a nice view of the outside of the castle. It was a smooth grey stone structure – not different from his Camelot – though the statues were of dragons and phoenixes. Real small dragons sat alert on the castle ramparts while some big dragons – closer to the size of the dragon his father had locked up – flew overhead.  
   
He tried to be polite even as he grew tired of others peering at Krola as if they had never seen a white wolf before. True, most of them might not have seen an actual daemon in person and Krola’s silver eyes were not a common eye color for wolves – but still, it made Arthur feel out of place. As a consequence, he longed for his Daemon World. At least there, people wouldn’t be so overly interested in Krola like she was an exotic animal. He would be just like everyone else instead of the outsider with his soul outside his body instead of inside like it was in this World of Magic.  
   
Thanks to his speech in the hall, the people who stopped him to talk didn’t touch Krola. Though Arthur could see in the eyes of the younger children how they were yearning to pet his daemon. Arthur could understand the temptation to touch a furry animal, but he was grateful even those children exercised some restraint. After getting a closer look at Krola, one little boy pleaded with his mother that he wanted a wolf of his own while the mother looked weary. She reminded her son that he would get his own dragon to look after not long from now. Fortunately, that reminder was enough to appease the boy for the moment.  
   
Then the blonde girl he had seen in the hall came up to him.  
   
“Hello, I’m Alice,” she introduced herself with a smile. “I met someone else with a daemon earlier today. Now I know why I couldn’t touch her.”  
   
“Wait,” Arthur asked, his interest peaked. Had this girl seen Merlin? “Was the daemon a scarlet-gold phoenix? And was she with a dark-haired man--?”  
   
Alice nodded. “Yes. I doubt I’ll ever forget such a beautiful-looking phoenix. The man said his name was Myrddin. I met him in my world…well, the world I was born into. I live in this world now. I have to stay with my dragon after all,” she said matter-of-factly.  
   
Arthur felt relieved. He knew that Myrddin was one of the aliases Merlin decided to use in case he didn’t want to be found out. The girl clearly came from a non-daemon world with her lack of knowledge about daemons. She mostly likely came from the world he and Merlin had stumbled upon and where they had met that other Merlin. So Blakeney had been right. Merlin wasn’t in the Daemon World, thank goodness, and he wasn’t facing the threat of King Uther’s terrible plan on his own.  
   
That was one less thing to worry about Arthur thought.  
   
“Where’s your dragon now?” Arthur asked her.  
   
“She’s spending time with some of the other dragons. Her name is Amethyst.”  
   
“I saw her in the hall with you. Amethyst looked impressive.”  
   
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. Then she offered, “Would you like to see the garden?”  
   
“All right,” Arthur agreed.  
   
“It’s just there’s a phoenix nest there and Lyra – you saw her in the hall. She has dark blonde hair. I was standing next to her.”  
   
“Yes. I know her. I saw her on a winged horse too.”  
   
“Oh she’s really good at that, isn’t she? But she told me that the phoenix eggs should hatch soon. I was on my way to see them. You don’t have to come… it’s a bit silly,” Alice said softly, suddenly shy as she bit her lip.  
   
“No, no,” Arthur said hurriedly, not wanting to upset the girl. “I want to come. Really I do. I’ve never seen phoenixes hatching out of their eggs.”  
   
Alice smiled brightly at him.  
   
They walked toward the garden. She told him about the red dragon carving Arthur still saw in her possession. How Myrddin –really Merlin as Arthur automatically corrected to himself -- had given the carving to her as a good luck charm.  
   
And that she believed the carving led her to find Amethyst.  
   
Arthur thought wryly that it was just like Merlin to conjure a toy for a little girl.  
   
~ * ~  
   
That evening, Arthur found Blakeney at his door. Tailing him was a little black kitten with a white star on his forehead. Blakeney told him that he had just received the kitten, who he named Veritas, earlier that day from King Merlin. When Blakeney had first come to the castle years ago, the then Prince Merlin had given him a black kitten. Blakeney had named him Midnight, but unfortunately, the kitten had run away a few years later. Blakeney confided in slight exasperation to Arthur that Veritas was determined to follow him everywhere.  
   
The other man still looked a bit peaky and unsteady on his feet, but he did seem to be on his way to getting well. Arthur thought that maybe the kitten’s presence was helping.  
   
After Blakeney sat down, he took the creature into his arms. Veritas purred contentedly as Blakeney pet him. Arthur was eerily reminded of the Prince’s conviction that his wolf pup, Achilles, keeping him alive longer was why Achilles had been killed by those who wanted the Prince dead.  
   
Arthur was grateful to see Blakeney with Excalibur, which had been put in a new sheath. Blakeney returned the sword to him and told him he could use it as he usually did to return to the Shadow World. That Merlin would be waiting for him there.  
   
And as the firelight illuminated the both of them, releasing shadows of their forms, Arthur finally discovered what his role was in this battle against the Prince of Darkness.  
   
After he had lost Merlin, Arthur would come to wish that he hadn’t let Blakeney into his room that night.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Arthur returned to the Shadow World using Excalibur. He tried to smile easily as he caught sight of Merlin.  
   
All the while, in his head, a battle was going on. But it was so simple. Risk the end of all the worlds or risk all that he had with Merlin. All that they had been through, how close they had become especially during their year in exile…  
   
Arthur could only do the honourable thing, the _right_ thing.  
   
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked Merlin.  
   
He was sitting on the bed with Zlota perched on one of the pillows beside him. Merlin had been reading a book judging by the open text laid out in front of him. Arthur took the seat in the empty chair situated by the bed.  
   
Merlin smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Where were you? I’m glad you have Excalibur with you. I was worried someone had stolen it. I know how much the sword means to you. I’m guessing that since you were able to return here, that you weren’t taken for ransom…”  
   
Arthur did his best to look reassuring. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. I – we – have Excalibur and neither of us are hurt, so that’s what matters most,” he reasoned. “But I have a question…I should have asked you this months ago, but you never told me _why_ I couldn’t touch Zlota. I know that it’s painful for you as you’ve told me in the past, but we’re close, aren’t we? If you think about it from my view, it doesn’t make sense. I should be able to--” Then he stopped, and he reached out to touch Zlota.  
   
Merlin paled. “Arthur, don’t – _please_ don’t touch her,” he pleaded of him.  
   
He gripped Arthur’s forearm to emphasize his point. Arthur gave him a look, but he removed his hand from Zlota’s head. The daemon shifted closer to Merlin and away from Arthur as if she saw him as a threat.  “This is _ridiculous_ , Merlin. You can touch Krola without incidence, why can’t I do the same with Zlota? Do you – do you not love me enough?” He asked tentatively.  
   
Merlin shook his head fervently. “No, no. It’s not you, Arthur. It’s me. It’s – sometimes I wish that I had never made the promise, but it’s too late now.”  
   
“What is it? Just tell me. After all that we’ve gone through together, I have a right to know, Merlin. At least give me the courtesy of the truth,” Arthur demanded of him. Krola growled beside him.  
   
Merlin looked a little unwell as if Arthur were still touching Zlota. He bit his lip before he reluctantly confessed that he had made a promise to himself long before he had met Arthur or had come to Camelot.  
   
It was that the first person he was intimate with would be the only person who could touch Zlota without Merlin feeling any uncomfortable or painful sensation … even if he were intimate with anyone else after that, the promise still would remain firm. Of course, his mother or anyone of his blood would still be able to touch his daemon – the promise didn’t pertain to blood family.  
   
“I was young…and I had the silly idea that my first would be my one and only… so that the promise wouldn’t cause an issue. But unfortunately it did,” Merlin remarked regretfully. “Before we were together, I became close to Morgana. Especially close. And she was--” he paused and didn’t seem to want to continue. Arthur knew what he was going to say, but he just knew that once he heard Merlin confess it out loud, then the truth would truly hurt.  
   
“Morgana was my first, Arthur,” Merlin finished quietly, head bent. He couldn’t look Arthur in the eye. “And now she’s dead. I should have told you long ago, but I--” he looked at Arthur now.  “– we have something special together, Arthur. More than what I had with Morgana. There’s not a day that goes by that I wish I’d waited longer, that you had been my first. That you can touch Zlota and I wouldn’t feel as if someone had punched in the gut. If I had to choose one person to touch my soul, Arthur, it would be you. It would be _you_ ,” Merlin confided in him earnestly.  
   
Arthur ventured slowly, “So you said it’s too late. You can’t undo the promise?”  
   
Merlin nodded unhappily. “You can only have one first. I suppose if such a thing existed, I would travel back in time and change what I had done, but… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
   
“It’s all right. We all make mistakes. Anyway I’m glad you finally told me the truth. I don’t want any secrets kept between us,” Arthur told him firmly.  
   
Merlin nodded in agreement. “Yes, I couldn’t agree more.”  
   
“Let us drink to our relationship, shall we?” Arthur suggested.  
   
He pulled out the decanter he had with him.  
   
Merlin looked uncertain as he saw the dark-colored decanter. He couldn’t tell what was inside of it.  
   
“What’s wrong, Merlin? It’s just wine in here. It’s good, trust me,” Arthur assured him.  
   
Merlin gave him a small smile. “It’s nothing. You should drink it first. I insist.”  
   
Arthur shrugged. He put the decanter to his lips and he pretended to drink from it as convincingly as he could.  
   
He gave the decanter to Merlin who had decided to trust Arthur. He drank from the vessel.  
   
Arthur tried not to look at Merlin since he was sure of what he would see. Confusion. Surprise. Betrayal.  
   
“Arthur, why are you doing this?” Merlin asked him in dismay. Arthur could hear the confusion in his tone.  
   
But as the sedative did its work, he couldn’t keep his eyes open and he succumbed to sleep. Zlota fell asleep along with him.  
   
Krola whined.  
   
“Nothing is ever going to be the same again,” Arthur said softly, his jaw clenching as he steeled himself for what came next.  
   
~ * ~  
   
When Merlin roused, he dearly wished he were still sleeping and in the midst of a nightmare.  
   
But no. This nightmare was reality.  
   
He was back in the Daemon World going by the audience in the hall. Everyone had daemons. And the worst daemon, King Uther’s boar daemon, stood by the tyrant king’s side with a self-satisfied smirk on his ugly face.  
   
Merlin himself was lying on his back on the ground with guards on either side of him. Merlin felt a collar at his neck and he knew it was one that prevented him from using his magic. He could tell from the choking emptiness inside of him as well as the nausea he felt at this terrible restriction. He felt Zlota’s claws clinging to him a bit too sharply on his arm. She was as anxious as him.  
   
“You’re awake. Stand up,” Uther commanded of him from his throne.  
   
Guards were immediately on either side of him and forced him to stand up. It was hard as Merlin rather felt like curling up on the ground and throwing up. This was the last place he wanted to be.  
   
Merlin looked to see Arthur and Krola standing off to the side, a short distance away from Uther. A small sense of relief came over him that Arthur wasn’t seated in the empty throne beside his father.  
   
But the relief quickly faded away as he saw the cold, emotionless expression on Arthur’s face. Merlin wasn’t sure if Arthur was putting on a particularly good act or if he really had turned against him. The Arthur he knew would never, _never_ do this to him when he understood just what kind of hell he’d be subjecting Merlin to while in King Uther’s grip. Merlin couldn’t even mentally communicate with him to discover what was really going on. There was a wall in place. Arthur had shut him out.  
   
“It’s so good of my son to come to his senses and turn you in,” Uther remarked with a small smirk. “Take his daemon. Let’s see what happens when we subdue the daemon of one of the most powerful sorcerers in the land, shall we?”  
   
“No! You can’t--” Merlin protested futilely. Uther was going to place him under his control, taking the magic restricting collar off once he was confident in Merlin’s subordination. He was going to be a walking puppet.  
   
A guard grabbed Zlota who cried out, terrified of what awaited her.  
   
“You can’t do this! Zlota!” Merlin exclaimed desperately as he fell to the ground.  
   
He tried to work through the pain he was feeling as Zlota was roughly handled. He covered his face in his hands to hide the tears threatening to fall. None of this was real. This _couldn’t_ be happening.  
   
Merlin looked wildly to Arthur, pleading silently of him to stop this. To do something. But he could still see the unrelenting coldness in Arthur’s eyes. What had gone wrong? What had happened to Arthur? He should have been more careful – the other Merlin had been right. Meeting that lucky orphan had given him the worst luck imaginable. Merlin never thought that Arthur would betray him like this. They had come too far for that. But now Merlin wasn’t so sure anymore of Arthur’s intentions.  
   
Though Merlin didn’t have access to his magic, he could still do one thing. He forced himself to go to sleep. Whatever they were going to do to Zlota, he couldn’t bear to watch it.  
   
His head dropped to the floor as he forced his body to go into a deep sleep. He heard King Uther’s shout of outrage and frustration. He heard the king tell the guards to lock him up in the dungeons.  
   
And that was the last thing Merlin heard before sleep overtook him.  
   
~ * ~  
   
Arthur swore and then he swore again when he hit his knee against the hard wooden table.  
   
Despite handing Merlin over to him, Arthur hadn’t regained his father’s trust. Apparently paranoia over who was truly loyal to him had set in for King Uther.  
   
Maybe in this case, his father had been right to lock him up in this high tower – so high that even Arthur who had no fear of heights was rather unsettled by how high up he was from the ground. He hadn’t even been aware that such a tall tower existed in Camelot.  
   
Who knew what his father had been up to while Arthur had been in exile away from Camelot. Judging by a strange invisible barrier that prevented Arthur from leaving his circular room, he was positive magic was keeping him imprisoned here. Arthur guessed that his father had gotten a sorcerer in his service by subduing his daemon and had the mind-controlled sorcerer build this tower. So that his father could trap Arthur in it when the time came.  
   
At least Arthur was glad for one thing – that his father let him keep Excalibur. Fortunately the king was unaware that Excalibur was more than just a sword. His father probably figured that Arthur couldn’t do much with a sword trapped in this room in a tall, seemingly inescapable tower.  
   
Except maybe impale himself to death considering Arthur wouldn’t be surprised at all if Merlin never forgave him for what he’d done. That would be enough to die over, honourable death be damned. He prayed to the gods that betraying Merlin would have helped in saving the worlds from disaster.  
   
Arthur knew that he needed help even though the source of this help was far from ideal.  
   
He deeply felt the irony for who he was going to ask for aid. But Arthur still felt that if anyone in all the bloody worlds could have a heart and help him, it would be the King Merlin of the other world’s Camelot.  
   
He had to.  
   
Unfortunately, Arthur discovered that the way back to the World of Magic was closed off. Krola growled in displeasure at the sight of the solid golden wall that revealed itself when Arthur cut through with Excalibur. The opening that should have been there was not.  
   
“What – now that I did it, King Merlin wants nothing to do with me anymore?” Arthur wondered out loud bitterly.  
   
Krola pawed at the yielding wall and not even the scratches from her claws remained on the barrier for long.  
   
“It would seem like that’s the case,” Krola agreed unhappily.  
   
“Fuck this,” Arthur said in annoyance.  
   
Then a stream of purple light shot through the golden wall and into the room. Arthur and Krola stepped back, both expecting the light to transform into an animal as they had previously witnessed in the other world.  
   
The light turned into a deep purple phoenix. The phoenix had a rolled piece of parchment and a quill in its talons.  
   
“And who are you?”  
   
The phoenix clicked her beak and she set the parchment and the quill down in front of him.  
   
After unrolling the paper, Arthur saw writing appear on it.  
   
“I am Sagittarius, phoenix to Camelot’s Gatekeeper. The gateway to and from the Daemon World and the World of Magic is currently closed. The way shall be re-opened when the reason for the closure is resolved. If you require assistance, please write down so on this parchment and my Gatekeeper will assist you when he is available.”  
   
Arthur raised his brow. “Can you tell me why the gateway was closed?” He demanded.  
   
The phoenix, Sagittarius, shook her head. The previous writing disappeared and more writing appeared, “No, but I assure you that King Merlin will do what he can to open this gateway again. But please, if you need help, say so on this paper and I will send it along to my Gatekeeper.”  
   
“Did King Merlin order the closure? Is he trying to keep me out?” Arthur was determined to get to the bottom of the matter.  
   
“No, His Majesty is not,” the writing unraveled on the sheet once again, “As I said, if you require assistance--”  
   
Arthur nearly growled in unison with Krola. He was feeling so frustrated. “I don’t want to speak to the Gatekeeper, I want to speak to King Merlin of Camelot, all right? Can’t you just tell him I need to see him? Whenever this ridiculous closure ends?”  
   
“Procedure has to be followed, Sir. My Gatekeeper will get you in contact with King Merlin if you--” Sagittarius tapped her talons on the now blank piece of parchment.  
   
“Fine,” Arthur muttered.  
   
He took the quill and wrote down on the paper, “I need to speak to King Merlin immediately. That is, if he has any time to spare,” Arthur wrote down, hoping the king could hear the sarcasm in his words. “If you, as the Gatekeeper to the World of Magic’s Camelot, could notify him of my request for assistance, I would appreciate it.”  
   
Arthur was about to sign it ‘Arthur Pendragon of Camelot’ but he decided that considering the existence of other worlds and alternate versions of himself as well, that he had to change that.  
   
So he revised it to, ‘Arthur Pendragon of the Daemon World.’  
   
He rolled up the parchment and he handed it off to Sagittarius. The purple phoenix, parchment and quill in her grasp, turned back into a stream of purple light and returned to the World of Magic through the barrier.  
   
Not caring that it would hurt, Arthur hit his fist against the golden wall that wouldn’t budge. Maybe if he had the ability to turn into a phoenix, he’d get past the barrier like the Gatekeeper’s phoenix had?  
   
Arthur rid himself of the absurd thought. That was far from a viable solution now.  
   
Feeling despondent, he sealed the blocked opening with his fingers.  
   
“I feel like a damsel in distress locked up in this bloody tower,” Arthur mused aloud.  
   
He collapsed on the bed with a great sigh and covered his face with a pillow. Maybe he could smother himself to death instead of impalement.  
   
It would be less bloody.  
   
Krola agreed with his frustrated assessment. She jumped on the bed and rested her head on his chest. Arthur stroked her idly.  
   
“Nothing is ever going to be the same again,” Arthur silently repeated to himself.  
   
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be happy again either.  
   
 ~ * ~

**Next chapter's title:** _The White Raven_  
 **And a p **review** :** Arthur gains an ally from another world, Merlin has rather strange dreams, and the lucky orphan (Gwydion aka another world's Merlin) makes friends. ;)


	7. The White Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gains an ally from another world and gets one step closer to rescuing Merlin. Meanwhile, Merlin has rather strange dreams. Gwydion (aka another world's Merlin who's 10 years old) makes friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, I introduce a character who is an AU version of a character from Susan Cooper's The Dark Is Rising book series. There is a discussion of another world's version of this AU character. That mentioned character is intentionally meant to be the character from The Dark Is Rising series. I'm just continuing on with the theme of other versions of the same person in different worlds.

~ * ~

Intrigued. That was how Arthur felt upon seeing the quiet servant girl enter his room in the tower the next day. She was about the same age as that girl Lyra from the other world. Sixteen maybe seventeen? She had long brown hair and rather astonishingly light green eyes. Her mouse daemon sat on her shoulder. The daemon was snow-white in colour with black splotches dotting his small body.

“I thought my father would send some guard to leave me food and give me threatening looks. I wasn’t expecting someone like you. What is your name?” Arthur asked casually as he tucked into his food.

The young woman looked anxious to be in his presence. “Ophelia, My Lord.”

“Just call me Arthur. I feel more like a prisoner than a prince at the moment. And I would rather still be in exile far away from Camelot right now,” Arthur admitted honestly. “Could you tell me what is being done with Merlin? How is he?”

Ophelia gave him a puzzled look. “It’s strange that you sound concerned about him when you were the one who turned him in. I don’t know much… but it certainly isn’t going well for him. His phoenix daemon has been subdued. The sorcerer is under King Uther’s control--” She paused, looking like she wanted to speak further, but had reconsidered. She said instead, “I heard that the knights who still remain loyal to you question your judgment. You ventured into exile with Merlin as a close friend, and now your demeanor toward him has drastically altered…Apologies, I shouldn’t have been listening in. My mother always tells me that I am far too curious for my own good.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur told her, dismissing her apology. “I need to know what’s going on, and the more you find out the better. I’m frankly not surprised that some of the knights questioning my sanity. I’m unsure I could even trust myself now.”

“Why did you turn him in? What happened?”

“It’s complicated…you can sit down if you want. Put that empty chair to use,” Arthur offered.

“Of course, My L—Arthur,” Ophelia quickly corrected herself.

She sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.

“You paused before. What were you going to say? It’s about Merlin, isn’t it?”

“Apparently last night, the king sent for Merlin to spend the night in his bedchambers…”

“He’s using him as a bedwarmer?!” Arthur concluded, nearly shouting out the words in his outrage.

“I can not say that with complete certainty, but since he is now under the king’s control…the king can do whatever he wishes with him.”

“My father hates him. He must be doing this to spite me,” Arthur decided, irritated. “He made sure everyone was aware of it, so the rumor would get back to me.”

“But you turned Merlin in -- as far as the king should be concerned, you don’t care about Merlin,” she pointed out. “It seems a bit silly for the king to test you.”

“Unfortunately, he doesn’t believe that I’ve turned against Merlin. So that’s why he has locked me up here and decided to do whatever he’d like with Merlin. He wants to see how I’ll react. To discover where my loyalties truly lie…and I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this…”

Ophelia smiled softly. “I’ll keep this between us, I promise,” she assured him as her white mouse daemon crossed her chest and settled on her other shoulder. The daemon stared at Arthur with interest. “Where do your loyalties lie?”

“Not anywhere close to my father, I’m sure of that. I don’t care that I’m speaking treason. He’s mad.”

“The Mad King…” Ophelia remarked idly and Arthur felt uneasy at the sudden reminder of his alternate self’s nickname – the Mad Prince. Recalling the Prince certainly didn’t help his mood.

Ophelia spoke again before Arthur moved to change the subject. “I have a little cousin – he’s eleven -- who possesses magic. So I’m not quite in agreement with King Uther’s rule of law.”

“Good to know we both agree on that. What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Bran,” Ophelia told him shortly. With a smile, she stood up, “Anyway, I should go. I shall see you tomorrow. Unfortunately one of the guards will give you your meals for the remainder of this day. He’ll probably give you threatening looks too. Sorry about that,” she said, mildly apologetic and slyly referring back to Arthur’s earlier remark about expecting a guard.

“Am I boring you?”

“No, no not at all. There are simply other chores I must do that take priority,” Ophelia assured him. “See you, Arthur.”

She left the room with his empty plate.

“I don’t think her daemon is a real daemon,” Krola spoke up after Ophelia had departed. “I doubt she’s just a servant.”

“I have to agree. It was odd. Her daemon seemed like it hadn’t settled yet, but that doesn’t make sense. She should have a settled daemon by now. Though I didn’t feel like her daemon should have been a mouse…” Arthur noted.

“I’ve never been so puzzled by another daemon before. And I don’t think it has to do with an unsettled daemon. It feels much bigger than that,” Krola declared shrewdly.

“I think I should trust her though…it’s not like I have a lot of options now. And she’ll give me the information I need. We only have a feeling, right? Her daemon didn’t change form, so maybe he truly is settled and we’re being overcautious.”

“Her daemon didn’t speak once,” Krola pointed out.

“Then the next time I see Ophelia, I’ll ask her daemon to speak,” Arthur decided easily. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

What Arthur was more concerned about now was hoping that the Gatekeeper would contact him. He was impatient to see him and hopefully find a way to get Merlin out of the situation Arthur put him in.

King Merlin would want to help Merlin, right? They were alternate versions of each other after all. Sure, the king condoned Blakeney’s manipulation of him to betray Merlin, but the fate of all the worlds had been at stake. Arthur hated that the betrayal had to be the solution, but he had done it and there was no going back now.

~ * ~

Fortunately, that evening, the Gatekeeper did come to see Arthur.

When Arthur saw him, he didn’t have to take long to guess the man’s name. “Your name is Lancelot, isn’t it? A man who looks like you and going by that name gave me Excalibur. He must have been an alternate version of you.”

“Yes, you’re right. My name is Lancelot,” he confirmed. “May I sit?” He asked politely. Arthur nodded, waving his hand at the seat across the table. Lancelot admitted, “I’ve never met an alternate version of me. Do you know where he resides?”

Arthur shrugged. “The Lancelot of my world told me that he’s more of a traveler. I only saw him that one time when he handed me Excalibur. That was months ago while I was in exile. I wouldn’t know where he is these days,” he informed the other man. “How did you get through to my world if the gateway is supposed to be closed?” Arthur wondered.

“Gatekeeper’s privileges. Someone always has to have access to all the worlds no matter if there’s a closure to the rest of the population. And just so you know, I was not the Gatekeeper who first started the closure. Another kingdom’s Gatekeeper was to blame. But like the other Gatekeepers, I had to follow the Gatekeeper’s Code. That if one kingdom closes access to one or more worlds, the remaining Gatekeepers must do the same. Otherwise the gatekeeping system would be strained by the extra traffic coming into fewer gateways. That may damage the system badly.”

Arthur sighed. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. So did you tell King Merlin that I wished to meet with him?”

Lancelot looked apologetic. “I got your message from Sagittarius, yes. I’m sorry, but King Merlin is dealing with a delicate matter at the moment. He can’t see you right now. This is your world and your Camelot after all, and therefore more your responsibility. I’m sure you can handle this situation on your own. You possess Excalibur as well as the ability to drain magic…”

Arthur wondered what sort of delicate matter had gotten King Merlin so busy. Damn him. But he decided it wise not to comment on that point and instead, he went into the other issue at hand. “My ability to drain magic is useless. I can’t use the magic unless a sorcerer incants the awakening spell,” Arthur pointed out, feeling powerless as he spoke. “And it’s not like I have a lot of sorcerers coming here to visit me.”

“At least consider it as an option,” Lancelot suggested to him. “Think about it. You’re clever, I know you are.”

“All right. I will,” Arthur agreed reluctantly.

He caught the significant look that Lancelot was giving him. There was something Arthur was missing. How could his ability to drain magic help him to escape this tower? No magic user had come to see him in the tower and draining someone’s magic wouldn’t help him get past the tower’s magical defenses.

Using Excalibur to escape to a different world was not a preferred option. Well, escaping for good at least since his father still had Merlin. Arthur didn’t put it past his father to retaliate by killing Merlin if he learned of Arthur’s escape.

No. He wouldn’t leave Merlin. If he would escape to a different world, then it had to be with Merlin. And anyway, escaping wouldn’t help to solve the problem of his tyrant of a father ruling Camelot. Arthur needed to solve that problem instead of running away from it.

Before he could think over it further, Lancelot spoke again. “We have your friend Guinevere. She’s doing well, the last I heard. She’s staying with King Merlin’s mother. She’s been in my world since before this closure occurred, of course.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. I hope she went willingly. Or does King Merlin take all otherworlders without their consent like he did with me?”

“You certainly have an issue with the king,” Lancelot pointed out with a frown. “But no. I was the one who found Guinevere. She was on the run. Your King Uther was looking to kill her due to her closeness to the late Lady Morgana. Guinevere told me that Uther believed that she possessed magic herself. That Lady Morgana may have let her ‘borrow’ some of her magic so that she would be protected. And of course, with your magic ban in this Camelot – that would be enough to get her executed.”

“Wait – my father didn’t tell her he would subdue her daemon because she was allegedly a sorceress?”

Lancelot shook his head. “Just that he sought to kill her.”

“Then he knew that she really didn’t possess magic. He was just providing a reason to kill her. My father would want her dead because he knew she was never going to be on his side. That she would always remain loyal to Morgana even after her death.”

“Otherwise Uther would have had Guinevere’s daemon subdued? To have another magic user under his control?” Lancelot finished.

Arthur nodded. “Yes. And now there are two possible outcomes for sorcerers caught by my father: execution or the subduing of their daemons. Execution would be the more merciful action. To be under his control -- death would be a welcome paradise in comparison.”

“Your Merlin’s daemon has been subdued, right? I understand it cost you a lot to betray him like that.”

“I rather not talk about it. I want to punch someone in the face every time I think about what I did. Merlin will never forgive me for my betrayal. He’d have to be half-mad to even consider forgiving me.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this…but while your betrayal did weaken the forces under the Prince’s command, Merlin has an important role as well. The worlds won’t be saved from the Prince’s threat unless Merlin plays it out.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What is Merlin’s role? And why didn’t Blakeney tell me about it?”

“Blakeney didn’t tell you most likely because you were only supposed to know your role. Not Merlin’s,” Lancelot explained to him reasonably. “Once Merlin is of his own mind again, he will have to truly forgive you for your betrayal. No mind control, no coercion. He honestly, deep down in his heart, has to forgive you for what you had done.”

“I can’t believe this. Merlin won’t do that. He saw me turn against him. I can’t see him forgiving me. Damnit,” Arthur swore, feeling incredibly frustrated. “I think our talk is over. But I want to be notified when the gateway between our worlds re-opens. Send your phoenix to tell me. I don’t care.”

“All right. Fair enough. But remember: you can drain magic. From someone or something…” Lancelot hinted to him.

After that somewhat helpful advice, Lancelot the Gatekeeper magically disappeared.

“That something could be a structure…” Krola spoke up. She was sitting by Arthur at the table. He didn’t doubt that Krola had been going over all that the Gatekeeper had said while Arthur himself had been speaking to him.

Arthur nodded, understanding what his daemon had deduced. “The tower has strong magical defenses on it. But I haven’t drained magic from a non-living thing before, so I don’t know if it’ll work successfully.”

“There’s a first time for everything. And if you take out the tower’s magic, then it’ll be easier to escape.”

“But this will work best if I could use the magic I’ve drained. I can’t do that without a sorcerer,” Arthur reminded Krola about the plan’s flaw.

Luckily Krola was one step ahead. “Or a sorceress, Arthur,” she pointed out.

Arthur was drawing a blank for a moment before he cottoned on. “Well, tomorrow should certainly be interesting,” he mused.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Krola said.

~ * ~

“I know about the prophecy. You know I’m the orphan. You can’t destroy me. Take me back right now!” The boy demanded. He reflexively played with the flat and thin golden bracelet on his wrist. “And take this bracelet off me too,” he added as an afterthought.

King Merlin sighed. Calmly, he sat down beside the ten year old boy on his cot in the Court Physician’s chambers.

“Then you also must know that you’re another version of me from a different world. And I’m actually glad that you can’t be destroyed. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you had to die based on the words of a prophecy. I promise you that.”

“You’ll be sad if I die?” The orphan asked him skeptically. “My father hates you. He said you can’t stand that I can’t be killed.”

“Well he was lying to you. I only want to protect you,” King Merlin assured him. “Kara?” He called over the Court Physician.

She came to them, a clear vial in her hands. She smiled warmly at the orphan. “Hello. I’m the Court Physician. Can you guess what’s in this vial?”

The boy’s blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, though his face held a curious expression. Kara let him hold the vial which held a golden swirl of energy with an ugly black energy mixing with it.

The boy looked up after his inspection. “It’s my magic of course. The golden bit. The dark part isn’t mine. I don’t know where it came from.”

“Kara found this inside you – what do you prefer I call you? I hear you’re not too fond of being called Merlin. Though it was the name your mother gave you, right?”

The orphan shrugged. “I was too young when my mother died. I’ve just been told that was my birth name. But I don’t want to share a name with a bird. My name is Gwydion.”

Merlin decided that the orphan going by a different name would be best. The boy would feel more like an individual instead of just one world’s version of a person.

“Gwydion you’ll be then,” he acquiesced smoothly. “Back to the matter at hand, Kara here checked your magic to insure all was well with that part of you. Unfortunately, she found this black energy – most likely dark magic – mixed in with it. You may not currently be feeling the adverse effects of this mixing of magic within you, but we fear in the future, it will be poison to you. And you may die. I’m sure you’d want only your own magic inside of you.”

“How did the dark magic get inside of me? You think my father put it in me without me knowing?” Gwydion assumed. He sounded upset.

“Gwydion, he is called the Prince of Darkness for a reason. He may appear to care for you a great deal, but that doesn’t mean he won’t manipulate your magic without your permission. There are some benefits to mixing magic like yours with the essence of dark magic. Your father is using you as a power source, and to boost the strength of your magic, he is injecting dark magic inside of you. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of your health,” King Merlin intimated to him with concern etched in his tone.

Gwydion looked to be considering. King Merlin felt that the boy was beginning to question the trust he had in his adoptive father, the Prince of Darkness. “I want to see it for myself. Take some of my magic now,” Gwydion commanded.

He held out his arm to the court physician.

“Very well. Are you sure?”

Gwydion nodded. “Yes. You have my permission.”

Kara waved her hand over his forearm and she extracted a sampling of the boy’s magic. Gwydion looked dismayed when he saw foreign dark magic mixing with his own natural golden magic.

“This black magic will hurt me in the future?” Gwydion confirmed.

“Yes. I want to make sure you live a long life, Gwydion. And this dark magic inside you will prevent you from living that life. We can help you fortunately. Kara can remove the dark magic from you – separating it from your own magic. The procedure may hurt a bit…”

“But by the end of it, my child, you’ll only possess the magic you were meant to have,” Kara assured him. “No more ugly dark energy slowly infecting your body. You’ll be able to live a nice, long life. Think of all the great things you can accomplish if you live longer.”

Gwydion looked to be considering her words. “I want you to get rid of the black magic, please,” Gwydion requested, his voice suddenly quiet almost shy. Then he peered at the bracelet on his wrist. “What does this bracelet do?”

“The bracelet will insure you stay in this world for now at least,” the King explained to him. “In the future, I may take it off you. But this is a precautionary measure.”

“So I can still go anywhere in this world – not just remain in Camelot?”

“Yes, that’s right. This world is quite big. I think you’ll be far from bored.”

“What about someone my age?” Gwydion asked.

“Soon we will have a Feast of Gratitude in honour of the god of magic. There will be a number of children your age coming for the feast. You won’t be disappointed.”

“All right. I’m looking forward to it,” said Gwydion with a small smile.

“Now I will leave you with Kara,” King Merlin declared, smiling back at him.

He felt encouraged by Gwydion’s initial progress in moving away from trusting the Prince of Darkness.

~ * ~

Memory was a fragile thing in dreams. Merlin knew his name, of course, and that he had magic – his beautiful magic – he couldn’t imagine living without it. He remembered that his mother’s name was Hunith. Her orange and cream cat daemon, Cieplo, was so clear in his mind. He had many pleasant memories of the male cat’s soothingly familiar presence by his mother’s side.

Before she had settled, Zlota had changed into a kitten quite a few times to play with Cieplo. Often, Merlin recalled Zlota as a kitten pestering Cieplo with her exuberance, but luckily his mother’s daemon took the playfulness as calmly as his mother would with Merlin.

Zlota was now perched on his shoulder as a scarlet-gold phoenix – always and forever a presence of comfort to him. She was the one thing he could count on now. He had no doubt about that.

In this dream, Merlin finally felt free, free to think for himself, free to do what he wished.

But he couldn’t quite recall why this freedom was so important, so cherished to him at this moment.

What had happened? Why did he feel like he had been so terribly thirsty and now, only now, in this quiet beauty of his dream forest, could he finally drink the water he so desired?

Merlin sighed, relishing his stay in the peaceful forest. He went to sit down by an old oak tree. “Stay with me, Zlota. Something’s wrong, I think,” he said quietly.

Merlin wished he knew what was wrong.

“I think you’re right,” Zlota commented. She left his shoulder and settled down by his hip. Merlin swept his hand over her feathery body and he felt his worry ease as he clung to the closeness of his beloved Zlota.

Merlin put his head back so that it touched the hard bark of the tree.

“Do you remember a castle? There was a particular one, but I can’t recall much else about it…” Merlin admitted hopelessly.

“The castle was a dangerous place,” Zlota acknowledged grimly.

Merlin nodded. “Yes. It still is,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why he thought that. How would he know? He didn’t even know where this castle was located in the first place.

Then their musings were interrupted by a little white wolf pup wandering toward them. It was strange to see such a young wolf pup without its mother nearby.

Merlin was surprised at himself for his deep hatred against this seemingly innocent small creature.

Yet he almost didn’t care why he felt such a sharp dislike toward the wolf pup. All that mattered now was to make the creature leave. This was Merlin’s territory and the wolf pup was trespassing.

The animal needed to pay.

“Zlota,” Merlin said simply and he knew that Zlota was well aware of what he was asking of her. She was a part of Merlin after all.

Merlin wasn’t expecting Zlota to transform into a dragon – one that was only a little bigger than the wolf pup. But then again, this was a dream and such odd things could happen in dreams.

He smiled as the now dragon-shaped Zlota let out her fire-breath and thoroughly burned the unsuspecting wolf pup to death.

The white wolf pup never had a chance up against a dragon.

Merlin thought that this dream was a good one as he observed the ashes left over from the kill.

Zlota had done a commendable job.

~ * ~

Arthur woke up the next morning to Krola whining. She was anxious about something.

“What is it?” Arthur asked her.

His wolf daemon was watching the door to his tower room as if the door would attack.

“I think Hunith is here. And I doubt she’s happy with you,” Krola intimated, sounding uneasy.

“How do you know--?”

“I caught her scent… she’s definitely close. I don’t know who brought her here, but she’s in the tower. And she’s looking to speak to you.”

“Or yell at me. Krola, I don’t know what to do. Anything I say to her…how can I justify what I did? Merlin’s her son, her only son. She’s not going to listen to reason. Hunith certainly won’t easily accept that her own son was a ‘necessary sacrifice.’”

“She may not even give you a chance to explain,” Krola added unhelpfully.

Arthur covered his face in his hands. “I’m dead,” he declared in resignation.

The door to the room opened with an ominous creak. Merlin’s mother entered the rounded room with her orange and cream cat daemon, Cieplo, at her heels.

In any other situation, Arthur thought it would be amusing that Krola was so afraid of Hunith and her cat daemon’s wrath that she kept close to Arthur and whined softly. The wolf-daemon looked ready to dive under the bed. A wolf frightened of a cat? It just didn’t happen - at least with true creatures. Daemons were a different matter entirely.

Especially now, Arthur could understand Krola’s fear as he was feeling that same way himself. He tried to hide the ill feeling as best as he could, but it wasn’t easy. This whole predicament was a nightmare.

“I have been told of what you have done, what you have brought on to my son,” Hunith said stiffly, her voice trembling a bit from emotion.

She remained standing – quite possibly not wanting to stay there any longer than she had to, Arthur thought grimly.

“Hunith, you have to understand…” Arthur tried to get through to her, feeling like pleading would be the only way.

Hunith gave him a displeased look. “I don’t know what to think. Here you are locked up as King Uther’s prisoner, it seems, and yet you did exactly what your father wanted. You brought a sorcerer – my son – to him. You condemned my son to have his free will taken away, to be forced under unwilling command because of your father’s blind crusade. What am I to make of your intentions? I can’t believe anything you say or any other claims that you’re still the man I trusted with my son. I can only go by what has happened. And I swear--”

“Hunith, I wouldn’t have done that to Merlin if there wasn’t another choice. The destruction of all the worlds is at stake!” Arthur argued.

“You do not interrupt me,” she said sharply.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” Arthur said quickly. Krola looked worried, still whining quietly.

Hunith’s daemon hissed and bared his teeth.

“I’m sure you have a very good reason, Arthur. And maybe you felt like you had no choice and decided to take my son down with you. I hope you do feel miserable. No matter how noble your motivation may have been, you still betrayed him,” she told him, her unyielding tone of voice leaving Arthur little room, he felt to persuade her to trust him again.

She continued on before Arthur could even think of the right words to say. “I want him back, and once he is well and free of this wretched spell, I don’t want him anywhere near you. Understood? I don’t care if you swear that you’ll never harm him again – I won’t believe you. Though Merlin is grown, I’m still his mother and I reserve the right to decide whose company he’s in. I’m certain he’ll agree with me after realizing the terrible thing you did to him.”

Arthur sighed. “I promise you, Hunith. I will save Merlin, and if you wish, I’ll make sure that he is far away from me. Though I can’t promise that I won’t visit him.”

“As long as you aren’t alone with him,” Hunith allowed reluctantly. “Someone needs to be supervising the both of you. No exceptions. It will take me a while to ever trust you again, Arthur. Now I have been told about this World of Magic…”

“By who?” Arthur wondered.

“By this young woman named Ophelia. She had a startling appearance, I have to say. She told me about this other world that is friendly to magic users. The World of Magic doesn’t condemn them as your father so hatefully does here. And she told me about that world’s Camelot.”

Arthur wasn’t sure what Hunith had meant by a startling appearance. Ophelia had looked rather ordinary – besides her peculiar unsettled daemon, there wasn’t anything particularly striking about her. But he decided this wasn’t the time to discuss it. He would deal with the matter when or if he saw Ophelia again.

“That Camelot is ruled by an alternate version of Merlin,” Arthur pointed out.

Hunith nodded. “My son will be sent there once he is free. A place that respects his magical nature is the best place for him. That’s what I want.”

“For how long? He can’t stay there forever,” Arthur argued a bit weakly. He didn’t have the strength to get into a conflict with Merlin’s mother. It simply wasn’t worth it when he knew that he was in the wrong and she had every right to have her wishes abided by. “This world is still Merlin’s world – magic ban or not,” he reminded her.

“Until you do your duty and lift this ban on magic in Camelot. I want you to do the right thing,” Hunith bade of him. “Make the people of Camelot see that magic is good, and to make this kingdom safe for those who possess magic again. Until then, my son will remain in the other world.”

“Very well. I will do what I can,” Arthur assured her quietly. “I am sorry for what I did to Merlin. I can’t imagine how you must feel now, but know that I feel awful about it. I’ve never felt worse as I do now,” he confided in her.

Merlin’s mother only gave him a look. “I just want my son safe,” she said and then she departed from the room, carrying her cat daemon in her arms.

Arthur was somewhat relieved to have that encounter over with, but he certainly didn’t feel any better than he had before Hunith had come.

If anything, he felt even more miserable. If that were even possible. The best plan to undertake now, Arthur concluded, was rescuing Merlin from Uther’s control. And insuring Merlin was in a safe place.

Though it hurt him deeply, Arthur knew he had to accept that maybe now, Merlin would be happiest as far away from Arthur as possible.

~ * ~

“So you brought Merlin’s mother here so she could speak to me,” Arthur began when Ophelia entered his room a few hours later. Her white mouse rested on her shoulder.

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Arthur said in an undisguised sarcastic tone of voice. “Who are you really? Did King Merlin send you? You do know about the closure, right? Not the best timing.”

“The closure issue will be resolved,” Ophelia assured him, sounding quite confident on the matter. “And yes,” she admitted. “King Merlin did request to have me here to help you, if you should require it.”

Arthur raised his brow. “But you’re a--”

“A Lady?” Ophelia finished for him with a frown. “I would have you know that in my clan, both men and women are treated as equals. I will inherit my family’s wealth without need for marriage because my parents decided not to try for a boy after my younger sister Celeste was born. And that is perfectly acceptable in my clan. Women can fight just as well as you lot.”

“Right,” Arthur agreed a little shakily.

Ophelia’s piercing gaze caused him to decide it best not to disagree with her. But he had wanted to say that, of course, if you possessed magic like Ophelia did than it was logical that this sort of equality could come about. After all, requiring the strength to wield a sword was much different than being learned in magic where physical strength wasn’t as important. Except he wouldn’t say that in front of Ophelia. After all, it wasn’t his business and he really needed her magical assistance, so it wouldn’t be wise to turn an ally into a foe by arguing with her. “You’re nobility then? The servant bit is a disguise?”

“Yes to both questions. My name is truly Lady Ophelia,” she acknowledged. “I decided it was easier to slip in and out as a servant.”

Krola spoke up then, peering at her daemon. “So the mouse isn’t your daemon?”

She shook her head. “No, my soul is inside. My Char here is actually a dragon. We nobility in the World of Magic usually have specialized dragons. Char here can change size in his dragon form as well as turn into a different creature. Mind you, not any creature -- there is a limit. He can only turn into a mouse at the moment. I don’t know if he’ll manage another animal, but you’re quite fond of your mouse form, aren’t you, Char?” Ophelia asked her dragon affectionately.

“Yes I am,” Char said cheerfully. He was playing with a strand of Ophelia’s hair.

Arthur was frankly surprised that a dragon would ever prefer to be a mouse of all creatures. But far be it for him to understand the eccentricities of dragons.

“Could I see his true form?” Arthur asked in curiosity. “As a small dragon. I’ve only seen a big dragon. Never a smaller one.”

Ophelia asked Char if he would transform into a dragon, but he declined. According to him, he just ‘didn’t feel like it.’

Then Char scurried down her body and ran under the bed.

Ophelia sighed. “I’m sorry about that. Char has his moods. I think he’d just rather stay a mouse now. Maybe some other time.”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me? You said you had a cousin, Bran? Were you lying about him?”

“Oh no. I didn’t lie to you about my family. I really do have an eleven year old relative named Bran. He’s probably the most level-headed boy you’ll ever meet. Of course, I am partial to him as he’s kin, so don’t take my word for it,” she confided in him with a small smile. Then she beckoned Char. “Charmont, come back here,” she ordered him firmly.

Char heeded her words and came out from under the bed. “I was going to come out soon,” he said defensively, sounding a bit like a petulant child. “Your wolf daemon is very big,” Char told Arthur. Arthur thought that from a mouse’s perspective, then yes, Krola would appear rather big. “Impressive too.”

“Thank you,” Krola responded to the mouse, unsure how else to take Char’s rather awestruck compliment.

It was especially funny coming from a creature whose original form was a dragon. Krola had to admit that she would be easily overlooked if it were a comparison between her and a dragon.

“There’s something I should show you,” Ophelia declared. “Maybe it’d be best if you sit down? It is shocking to witness for the first time.”

“I’ll remain standing,” Arthur said stubbornly. “What – are you truly an odd-looking magical creature who is wearing a disguise?” He guessed.

“Oh no. I am still human. And I wouldn’t say I look odd. At least I hope you wouldn’t think that…” she said slightly uneasily.

Arthur had his eyes trained on her. He waved his hand. “Well then. Just show me. I can handle whatever it is.”

Ophelia gave him a sharp look, but she proceeded nevertheless. Her disguise fell away. Before Arthur was still a young woman but she had very white hair and skin and it was certainly a startling appearance to take in all at once. The one thing that remained the same was her pale green eyes.

“My younger cousin, Bran, has tawny-golden eyes. He looks more startling than me if you can imagine.”

“Wait. He has the same pale colouring? All your family and relatives do?”

Ophelia nodded. “Yes. Most of them have very similar colouring. Those born into the White Diamond Clan, that is.”

“I think the Prince of Darkness mentioned you, this Clan…said you fight like the bastards of the gods.”

“Yes he doesn’t like us because we’re remarkable fighters. That truth infuriates the Prince.”

“I got that impression,” Arthur told her. “If you’re here to aid me, then I could really use your assistance now. I need to drain this tower of its magic so I can escape it. And I need you, as a magic user, to awaken the magic within me after the draining.”

“You would need magic to make a quick escape,” she agreed. “From what I can tell, this tower is held up by magic and once you drain it --”

“The tower will crumble,” Arthur concluded.

“Yes. But be forewarned that you must release all the magic within you as soon as you escape the tower. It is a lot of magic to hold inside one person and that kind of magical energy could very likely kill you. The magic in this tower is much, much greater than even the magic your Merlin possesses. So you can understand the risk you’re taking here.”

“I’m willing to take it if this path will lead me one step closer to saving Merlin. Where must I release the magic?”

“Back to nature where all magic originates. The mother goddess and the god of magic will both be pleased for your offering.”

“King Merlin talked about the mother goddess and her involvement in causing the plague in your world,” Arthur noted.

Ophelia gave a small nod. “No one in my world is absolutely certain who caused the plague. It is regrettable that it happened, but I personally am not sure why the plague was unleashed. After all, the ways of the gods and goddesses are not easily discerned. The mother goddess had to have a good reason to set a plague to kill the non-magic users of our world. But I have heard whispers that those who were unfortunately killed in the tragic turn of events were reincarnated. Reborn as humans again in another world entirely or as creatures, so some good came out of the catastrophe.”

“That helps a little. But that’s horrible if the mother goddess decided to go to such terrible lengths… I’ve always thought the gods and goddesses were more moral than that.”

“I suppose they make their mistakes as we humans are wont to do. I am just as dismayed as you, but what is done is done. The World of Magic has been permanently altered. Now we should focus on what we – you – can change.”

“Rescuing Merlin,” Arthur said with a nod.

“Yes. I really should go now. You should think carefully about what you are about to do. Draining the amount of magic you’ll be draining at one time is not something to be done lightly. You should get plenty of rest as well. I shall return tomorrow.”

“I rather save Merlin as soon as possible,” Arthur argued.

“I know, I understand your impatience, but when Merlin’s himself again, I doubt he’ll like it if you died trying to save him. You need to undertake the task ahead of you seriously and patiently… I want to make sure you survive the ordeal as much as I want you to rescue your Merlin. So please, take heed of my advice.”

Arthur sighed. “All right. I don’t like waiting, but you’re the sorceress here. I’ll follow your advice.”

“Thank you, Arthur Pendragon,” Ophelia said graciously to him.

~ * ~

Morgan entered Gwydion’s room late the next day. “Hello. I’m Morgan. I work in the castle, primarily as a performer – a dancer, that is, but I help out where I can. My mum always said I was a bit of a free spirit,” she said conspiratorially.

“Hi,” said Gwydion, unable to suppress a smile.

“King Merlin thought it’d be good for me to meet you,” Morgan informed him.

He peered at her purple eyes. “You know about the Immortals, don’t you? Most had purple eyes just like you. Are you descended from them?”

“I don’t know that,” Morgan admitted. “It’s a bit of a family myth. The Immortals used to live in every world, but then they were persecuted…”

“-- because their blood was powerful and useful for many magical spells. People went after them to bleed them out,” Gwydion contributed with great interest. “To get as much of their blood as they can.”

“Yes,” Morgan acknowledged with a smile. “Luckily, they were able to get the coveted support of the gods. They gave the Immortals their own safe, protected world to live in.”

“And then the Immortals faded away into myth and legend,” Gwydion concluded with a sad sigh. “Pity they were persecuted. I’d love to meet one. They were known to be very wise, weren’t they?”

Morgan nodded. “Yes. But there is an extensive library here in the castle. You could gain quite a lot of knowledge by reading books. Oh, then again, you’re just a child. What am I saying? You should enjoy your youth and play outside. It will pass you by before you know it.”

“I like to read,” Gwydion declared almost defiantly.

“Good trait to have for someone your age. I’m impressed,” she said.

The boy looked to be considering something, and then with a small nod to himself, he went to his desk and pulled out the parchment he had been drawing on. “I could use an opinion on what I’ve drawn,” he told her.

“You’re quite a talented artist,” Morgan praised the boy. And she truly meant it. The quality of the drawing was at the level of a master artist. Gwydion certainly possessed a talent at the arts. “This is a beautifully drawn knife. Could you tell me about it?” Morgan asked of him.

She’d noticed how the boy’s face had lit up when she had complimented him on the knife drawing.

Gwydion bit his lip uncertainly. “Are you really interested?” He asked her.

Morgan gave him a warm look. “Yes. I’m here to listen and I admit I’m quite intrigued. I’m assuming it’s a special knife?”

“That’s right,” Gwydion confirmed, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “But the knife doesn’t exist yet. I’m hoping to make it. You know how there’s that one sword, Excalibur, that can be used as means of travel between worlds? But what makes the sword even more special is that it’s also a fighting weapon without being damaged in the process. A sword like that is a feat of magical achievement. I heard it was difficult, nearly impossible, to forge a sword that will be strong enough to survive battles but also be delicate enough to open windows into other worlds.”

“Yes, of course. And Excalibur is currently possessed by someone not of this world,” Morgan pointed out, and a moment later, she cottoned on to what Gwydion was planning. “You want to make a knife with the same capabilities as Excalibur? Is that it? If you know of Excalibur, then you know the great amount of magic and sheer skill that is required to fashion such a weapon.”

“Do you know anyone who has successfully made a knife in the style of Excalibur?”

She frowned. “There are stories of unsuccessful attempts,” she informed him. “Sorcerers who were expert blacksmiths have faced defeat in trying to do the almost impossible. Like you said yourself, it’s nearly impossible, Gwydion.”

“But it can’t hurt to try,” Gwydion said firmly, sounding determined. “It may take time, I know that. But I have my whole life ahead of me. I know how powerful I am. I’m Merlin after all no matter my dislike of the name. I can feel the magic inside of me – and I just know I was meant to make this knife. It would be perfect. A knife is smaller than a sword and that leaves a concealment charm unnecessary. It’s easier to hide from enemies…”

“What about the knife’s true wielder? If the knife will be anything like Excalibur, then only one person should be able to wield it. That is, the right person, to ensure such a powerful weapon is protected from those who seek to abuse its capabilities. Would that be you?”

The orphan shook his head. “I’m only interested in making it. I don’t know who will be the knife’s true wielder. I don’t think I’ve met that person yet,” he admitted thoughtfully.

He had a faraway look on his face as he turned his attention to his knife drawing. Morgan guessed that he was wondering about that unknown person who could one day wield this knife. He shook his head quickly when she put her hand gently on his shoulder. Gwydion shrugged and smiled at her softly. “That’s the exciting part – finding out who the mystery owner would be. At least I think so. I’m hoping to call the knife, ‘Gwydion’s Knife’…so that others will remember who the maker will be.”

“You have high ambitions for a ten-year old,” Morgan noted. “I say if you have the passion for this knife, then you should pursue the challenge. But it would be good to discuss the matter with King Merlin. I’m sure he’d love to hear about the knife.”

Gwydion frowned slightly. He didn’t look particularly happy about confiding in the King.

“Gwydion, you know some people would love to have the chance to speak to another version of themselves. King Merlin only wants to help you, to insure your happiness.”

“He said that he didn’t want to harm me,” he relayed to her, sounding uncertain and doubtful of the King’s words.

Morgan smiled. “You should ask him about The Code of The Otherworlders. One part of the Code is to not directly harm another version of oneself. Of course the King follows this Code. Therefore, you should rest assured that you will be safe in this world. Even without the Code, it is considered taboo to hurt your other self from another world. Remember that.”

Gwydion appeared thoughtful, and then he nodded. He seemed to be persuaded by Morgan’s sincerity.

“All right. I’ll talk to King Merlin,” he agreed.

~ * ~

“Is this really necessary?” King Merlin asked wearily of King Draco Wolfsbane. “Those of the Daemon World are not soul-less because their souls are outside their bodies. And the animal souls are not wild animals. It is no reason for this closure you ordered.”

“I expected that you would say that, Merlin, but I’d like to see the proof for myself. And since you and your Queen insisted on being here, I think it would be well-advised to have a witness.”

Queen Freya spoke up in mild disdain. “I do hope you plan to re-open the gateway between our world and the Daemon World. I must tell you it isn’t fair for you to have done such a closure based on your misconception.”

“I am truly sorry, My Lady. I still am firm on seeking proof, though I am not against lifting the closure once I gain the information I need.”

Freya frowned, and Merlin squeezed her shoulder to help in calming her down.

Merlin nodded at the fellow King. “You may proceed.”

King Draco motioned to the servant by the door, and the man bowed out of the room. A moment later, he brought in a brunette boy of about eight years of age. His blue-green eyes were wide in obvious worry. An unsettled daemon in the shape of a small puppy was cradled in the boy’s arms. The boy looked nervous.

“You brought in a boy from the Daemon World?” Merlin asked in dismay.

“I heard what you did with the orphan,” said the other King in an accusing tone.

“I was following the Code,” King Merlin argued.

King Draco waved his hand. “Yes, of course, if you allow for some flexibility. Now I am not against what you did, but I’m sure you’re aware that your actions will incite the Prince’s anger?”

“Of course. I’m aware of that,” he acknowledged grimly.

“Enough of the Prince of Darkness. We could discuss him all day if we wished. I think it best that we return to the matter at hand. What is your name, my dear child?” Freya asked the boy from the Daemon World.

“Declan,” the boy addressed her in a shy voice.

“We shall begin, My Lady,” King Draco announced.

He waved at his servant who looked a bit unhappy to be granted the task he was about to carry out.

The servant forcibly took the now mouse daemon from the boy’s hands and he left the room. A great change came over the boy. His face fell and he cried out in anguish for his daemon as if he were dying and needed someone to rescue him. Yet a magical spell kept him rooted to the spot.

“End this now,” Freya demanded only moments later.

The reason for her urgent demand was clear. Not only had the boy been stricken with emotional trauma, but King Merlin had gone deathly pale as well. His hands were tightly gripping the arms of the chair as if his life was depending on it.

Merlin just managed to speak out, “My empathic abilities…”

King Draco appeared alarmed, and upon snapping his fingers, the servant returned into the room. He returned the daemon back to the child.

King Draco apologized, “I am sorry. I did not realize you would be so affected by the separation. I had forgotten your mother’s empathic talents that you inherited.”

“I want to go home,” the boy said plaintively. He warily stared at each of them in turn.

Clearly, the child distrusted them after being parted from his daemon.

Color was coming back to King Merlin’s face upon the boy regaining his daemon. He appeared to be able to breathe again while his empathic abilities weren’t wearing down on him anymore.

Freya stood up and cautiously approached the anxious boy. She smiled warmly at him. The boy’s daemon – which had remained a mouse – was now a very alert yellow bird that couldn’t stay still on the child’s shoulder.

Careful not to touch the bird, Freya placed her hand on his other shoulder. She spoke softly to the boy, “Do not worry, Declan. You shall return home, I assure you. No one will take your daemon from you from this moment forward. I will make sure of it. What is her name?” She asked him.

“My name is Melisande,” the female daemon answered her. She moved up and down the boy’s shoulder, her little talons clutching the boy’s shirt underneath her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Melisande,” said Freya kindly.

Merlin smiled to himself as his wife helped to ease the scared boy’s mind.

“I think, Declan, that you could do with a good rest,” Merlin decided. “It must have been a stressful day for you, my boy. When you wake up, you will be home again.”

Declan gave the smallest of smiles, his uneasiness with his predicament showing through. “Sleep sounds nice. I miss my mum.”

Freya smiled at him, and then assured him that he would be with his mum again soon. She silently incanted a spell to put the nervous child under a peaceful, dreamless slumber. The boy and his daemon both fell asleep upon a pile of soft blankets and a pillow that Freya magically procured as well.

“My empathic magic has never overwhelmed me in such a way before,” Merlin explained to his wife and King Draco afterwards. His tone was still somewhat breathless as he continued to recover from the emotional shock he had felt from Declan. “The connection between the boy Declan and his daemon-soul is inconceivably strong.”

Freya granted the other King an unyielding look. “Is this proof enough? I insist – and my husband does as well – that you re-open the gateway between our world and the Daemon World.”

“Based on what I experienced, I can inform you with great certainty that those of the other world in question are as human as we are,” Merlin intimated to King Draco. “And we shouldn’t look down upon them because they don’t have their souls within them or that they may not be as magically advanced as our world.”

King Draco Wolfsbane nodded. “I will call for the re-opening. I have my proof. I do regret that you were in pain, Merlin. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

“It was an accident,” King Merlin acknowledged. “You didn’t intend for it. I understand.”

“Very good. I am glad for that. I will return the boy to his world as soon as I can,” King Draco declared.

Freya spoke up, “I shall stay here to calm the boy and insure his return goes pleasantly. I hope you do not mind, Wolfsbane.”

“Not at all. Perhaps a female touch will be just the thing,” King Draco decided reasonably.

Freya convinced Merlin that he should return back to Camelot ahead of her. He had had a harrowing experience and he really should recuperate back at home. Merlin reminded her that she was the one who was pregnant, but Freya reassured him that she felt just fine.

~ * ~

Merlin was dreaming again. Zlota beckoned him over, informing him excitedly that she had seen a white raven not far away. Merlin could hardly believe it as ravens were always black, right? Only fantastical stories made mention that white ravens – the scavenger bird untouched by the ashes that made it black to begin with – existed. But white ravens were very elusive, even harder to find than phoenixes.

So with understandable interest, Merlin followed his phoenix daemon to the white raven.

He saw the white raven taking what looked like life essence into her beak. The essence was from a poor dead bluebird. The golden essence appeared to be food for the raven. It made Merlin uneasy and yet, he was hopeful as well. He felt that something good would happen from the white raven’s feast. That the raven hadn’t simply been satisfying her hunger, but she had other plans in store for the precious thing she had taken.

Then the white raven turned her attention to Merlin. The raven looked at him expectantly. Merlin felt a pang of familiarity when he looked upon the raven. But he couldn’t figure out who it could be. It was like a mist was clouding his thoughts.

Unsure what was compelling him to say the words, Merlin told her, “Five phoenixes will be born, one of which shall be white in colour and shall come last and stay behind. There will be two unicorns and two winged horses as well – to guard the phoenixes. Is that what you want?”

The white raven cawed at him as if she were saying yes; Merlin had told her what she needed to know.

Then to Merlin’s dismay, she bit him on his right pinky finger, a shallow cut forming on the finger. “What was that for?” Merlin demanded in irritation.

But then the snow-white raven just flew away. Fortunately, the cut healed magically as if it had not been there at all.

To his surprise, an image of the white raven appeared where the cut had been. Merlin wondered if the raven did this with all the people she met…so that they would carry a marking of meeting her.

But considering how elusive white ravens were, Merlin doubted the raven had encountered many people anyway.

What if he was the first? And why did he feel like he knew the white raven? The odd familiarity could not be disregarded.

“This is a dream, Merlin,” Zlota reminded him quietly, sounding reluctant to admit it. “Creatures that don’t exist can appear in them. You were just lucky to dream a white raven.”

“I know, Zlota. I wish I could stay in my dreams. I don’t like waking up,” Merlin confided in her miserably.

~ * ~

“Hello. My name is Alice,” Alice greeted the ghost in the library.

As Alice introduced herself, she couldn’t resist touching the dragon pendant on her new necklace. Lyra had gotten a jeweler to fashion the necklace and pendant for her. The jeweler had downsized the red dragon carving so that it was a shiny pendant attached to the golden necklace. This way, Alice felt assured that the dragon carving she had been gifted by that man, Myrddin, would never be lost.

The ghost of the lady looked up from the thick, leather-bound book she was reading. She smiled at Alice.

“How do you do? I am Lady Corah. You must be an otherworlder.”

“Oh. How could tell?”

“You look a little lost,” Corah informed her with a small smile.

“I suppose so. I haven’t been to the library here at Camelot. It’s very big.”

“Are you seeking a particular book?”

Alice bit her lip, and shrugged. “No, but I’m sure I’ll find what I’m interested in.”

She was about to say something else, but she was prevented when a dark-haired boy came up to them. He was a few years older than her and frankly, he looked familiar in her eyes. Like Alice had met him before.

“Hello,” he said. He shifted his gaze to each of them in turn.

“Alice, this is Gwydion. Gwydion, Alice,” Corah introduced them to one another.

“Hi,” said Alice.

She suddenly felt shy now as she couldn’t deny that Gwydion was nice-looking with bright blue eyes and hair as black as night.

“I can help you find a book,” he offered to Alice.

“Thank you,” Alice answered.

Corah gave him a disbelieving look. “Now Gwydion, this library is still new to you. You can’t be an expert so soon.”

Gwydion was nonchalant. “I know it well enough. I’m good with books.”

Corah nodded. “Well then. Go on,” she directed him. “I hope you find what you’re seeking, Alice,” she wished her.

“I hope so too,” Alice said.

Gwydion beckoned her to come with him.

“You look familiar, you know,” Alice told Gwydion as they walked down one aisle of bookshelves.

"Yeah, how's that?" Gwydion asked her.

“There was this man I met…he said his name was Myrddin and he sort of looked like you. But older by a decade I think… how old are you?”

“I’m ten, just ten. I think I know who you’re talking about. And believe me, his true name wasn’t Myrddin,” Gwydion confided in her. “And though I prefer Gwydion, I should tell you that it's not my true name. My mother gave me a different name…”

“What is it? Your name and his?”

“You already know it. You know King Merlin, right?”

“I’ve seen him, yes. I haven’t spoken to him. Oh! Your real name is Merlin? Does that mean you’re another world’s version of King Merlin and that man I met?”

Gwydion confirmed, “Yes. My birth world was probably created later than their worlds. That’s why I’m much younger than them. I don’t doubt a version lives in one world as a very old man. Maybe you’re just being born in another world. There are a lot of possibilities since not all worlds match one another time-wise.”

Alice then asked him, curiosity taking over her. “So what is your birth world like? My own world is not as interesting as the World of Magic. The Camelot in my world has a ban on magic, so I’m glad to be in this world now.”

Gwydion shrugged. “I was taken out of that world when I was too young to remember it. After my mother died, the man who adopted me took me out of the world I was born into. I assume my birth father is dead too. He never tried to seek me out either way,” he remarked, sounding unhappy and bitter about it.

“I’m sorry,” Alice said sympathetically. She felt a connection to Gwydion as she had suffered the loss of her parents too. Except she felt fortunate to have known her parents. Poor Gwydion, she thought, to have never known his mother. “I lost my parents a year ago. I miss them terribly.”

“At least you got to know them. You’re lucky. Is it just you? Do you have a brother or sister?”

Alice looked uneasy. “Well, there’s my twin brother, Robin. He was taken to be trained by a wise man. He’ll be a proper Dragonlord one day,” she declared, feeling proud of her brother as she spoke.

She missed him too, of course, but she unfortunately couldn’t go with her brother. If all went well, she would see Robin again. Alice couldn’t wait for that day.

The two of them turned the corner where there was a window alcove tucked away in the back of the library.

Gwydion nodded to the alcove. “You could sit down if you want,” he suggested.

“I think I will,” Alice decided.

She sat down upon the window seat and then peered out the window glass. Gwydion sat down across from her.

“This world is a dream, isn’t it, Gwydion?” Alice asked almost breathlessly. The sky outside was clear and bright, and she found herself tempted to venture outside the castle and enjoy the nice weather.

Seeing him rubbing a flat, thin gold bracelet on his wrist, Alice then heard him speak almost wistfully, “It would have to be.” His choice of words was strange to Alice.

“Whatever is that bracelet for?” Alice inquired of him curiously.

Gwydion shrugged and then smiled at her. “It’s only a bracelet. It serves no purpose other than looking nice, I suppose.”

“Oh, all right. I got this dragon pendant from that man who looked like you,” she explained, pointing to the pendant at her neck. “Myrddin or Merlin, whatever his name was. He had a phoenix for a daemon. It was amazing to see,” she told him excitedly.

“I’m sure it was,” said Gwydion, sounding a bit put-out as if he didn’t like hearing about another version of himself.

“I’m sorry… you don’t sound happy.”

Gwydion sighed. “No, it’s fine. I just like to pretend I have no other selves living in other worlds. Sometimes it’s nice to know I’m not alone, but other times, it’s so frustrating for me. I want to be remembered for being me, not as ‘another Merlin’ or the ‘orphaned Merlin.’”

“But it’s not something you can change,” Alice reasoned. “You can’t change who you were born as. Your mother named you Merlin and the kindest act in her honour is to respect that choice. She is dead after all.”

“Now I feel bad,” Gwydion declared quietly.

“You shouldn’t worry yourself. I like the name Gwydion. It suits you. As long as you don’t forget your mother’s chosen name for you. As a show of respect…” she noted.

Gwydion looked at her oddly. “How old are you? You’re younger than me, I think, but you sound older.”

“I’m seven,” Alice informed him. “And I will take that as a compliment.”

They both looked through the window, lost in thought, for a few long moments before Gwydion spoke up.

“Your brother then, Robin? He inherited the Dragonlord gift after his and your father? But you didn’t go with him and that man because --”

“Daughters of Dragonlords don’t inherit the gift of course. I don’t know if I even possess any general magic myself. Maybe I do, but it’s weak and it hasn’t made itself known yet.”

Gwydion grinned at her. “Maybe giving good advice is your magical talent.”

Alice looked at him in disbelief. “Yes I’m certain that’s it,” she remarked dryly. “Luckily the wise man who took my brother under his tutelage told me how to find my way to this world. I wish I could have stayed with Robin, but the man said his focus was to ensure my brother learned the ways of being a Dragonlord. And it was better for me to reside elsewhere as my presence would be a distraction to Robin. The wise man advised me to look for a dragon, and that the dragon will lead me to the World of Magic…so that whenever my magic would awaken, I would be safest in a magic-friendly world.”

“But you will see your brother again, right?” Gwydion asked her.

Alice nodded. “Yes. The man assured me that I wouldn’t be separated from him forever. Robin is my twin after all. It would be horrible if we spent the whole of our lives apart.”

“For your sake, I hope you do see him again,” Gwydion wished her sincerely.

She smiled graciously at him. ‘Thank you, Gwydion.”

Gwydion smiled in return and then he stood up. “I know what book you would like,” he announced.

Alice looked surprised. “Really?”

Gwydion put up a hand. “Wait. I have to find it. It won’t take long.”

He left her to navigate the rows of books.

Only ten minutes later, Gwydion returned with a book in hand. He handed the book to her. It was not a very thick book, so Alice didn’t feel very daunted by it.

She looked at the title. “The First Dragonlord’s Daughter,” she read out loud with a pleased smile. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

“It might be a true story, I’m not sure,” Gwydion said. “But fantasy or truth, I think you’ll relate to the title character.”

Alice agreed. “Except I can’t read very well,” she admitted hesitantly.

Gwydion didn’t seem to mind. “I can help you. I’m a good reader. Hopefully I can be a good teacher, but you will be the judge of that.”

“Thank you for offering. I don’t want to be a bother,” she intimated uneasily.

“No, you won’t be,” Gwydion assured her quickly. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? Friends help each other.”

Alice could see a hint of insecurity in Gwydion’s eyes, as if she would decline friendship with him. “Of course we’re friends. I can’t think of a better friend than you,” she assured him.

~ * ~

Ophelia told Arthur that the gateway to the World of Magic had been re-opened.

“Good,” Arthur said, then before he was about to venture into their plan to rescue Merlin, he noticed Ophelia looking ready to say something else. He looked at her carefully. “Well, what is it?”

She smiled a little. From his usual place on her shoulder, an impatient Char spoke up, “It’s very good news for you and for Merlin too.”

“Yes. Char is right. I made a trip to the World of Seers, and according to the Mother Seer, the Lady Morgause, a prophecy is expected soon. This upcoming prophecy will make the prophecy involving you and Merlin irrelevant. The burden is off you and Merlin. You can focus on rescuing him and setting things right in your home world without being tied up in that unfortunate prophecy.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” Arthur acknowledged. “I wish I was more relieved, but I already see how difficult it will be to get Merlin to trust me again. Or if he ever will,” he remarked glumly.

Krola whined at his feet. Arthur stroked her behind the ears.

Ophelia looked sympathetic. “It will be a struggle, yes, but with your burden lightened, the future is a bit brighter. You were a victim of that prophecy, and there’s no way of going back now. The best thing to do is to move forward and try to fix the damage that unfortunate prophecy caused. You were doing the right thing for the benefit of the majority, Arthur. Sometimes to fight an adversary such as the Prince of Darkness, a heavy cost must be made. Please don’t lose hope,” she almost pleaded with him.

“I’ll have to try my best,” Arthur said, still doubtful, but he hoped that saving Merlin and making his Daemon World a magic-friendly place for Merlin’s sake would be enough to ease his pain. “Should we do the spell?” He asked Ophelia.

She nodded. “Yes, of course, but you must make sure that you magically transport yourself out as the tower falls.”

“I will,” he said.

Then Arthur concentrated and he was able to feel the magic in the stones of the towers. Steadily, he drained every bit of magic from the tower structure.

After he was finished, he felt weighed down by the amount of magic now within him. Even though the magic lay dormant, unable to be used at the moment, Arthur still keenly felt its presence. Ophelia had been right. The tower had contained an outstanding quantity of magic.

The tower began to groan and shake as the magic holding it in place had gone. Arthur nodded to her, indicating that he was ready for her to play her part.

Solemnly, Ophelia spoke the incantation, “Áwæcne bealucræftas.”

And Arthur felt more alive than he had felt in a long time. He felt like he wasn’t breathing the air, but magic instead. He felt dizzy and almost drunk with the euphoria of all this magic inside him, alive and aching to be used.

“We must go!” Ophelia declared as the floor beneath their feet shook violently. “I’m sending you where we should meet,” she told him.

Then Arthur received an image in his mind’s eye from Ophelia of where their destination would be.

Within the circular room, the wall’s stone blocks edged out of their tight spaces. As holes formed, Arthur could see the outside.

Arthur called on the magic he now possessed to spirit him away from the soon-to-be destroyed tower. It was almost too easy to do such a spell with the powerful magic contained inside him.

Securely grasping Krola by the neck to insure she would stay with him, Arthur transported him and his daemon away to safety.

Arthur landed deep in the forests outside Camelot. With her mouse Char in her hands, Ophelia was there when he arrived, having magically transported herself at the same time. Char shifted from a mouse to a small white dragon with black spots, one most visibly surrounding his right eye. He flew close to them.

They heard the sound of horses’ hooves and men shouting. Were Uther’s knights on to them?

“They have sorcerers on their side. I’m sure they were betting that you’d escape,” Ophelia concluded grimly. “But you must release the magic you possess, Arthur. You can’t hold it for long or your body will begin to betray you.”

Arthur shook his head. “They’re after us. There’s little time. We have to run,” he declared stubbornly.

He used his magic to conjure a dark horse, and climbed his steed. Then he held out a hand to Ophelia.

“Come on,” Arthur urged her.

“Look. I can cover us magically. Releasing the magic you drained won’t take long!” Ophelia exclaimed.

“Please, just come with me,” Arthur couldn’t help but plead with her. “I’ll release it when the danger has past.”

Ophelia sighed, and accepted his offered hand. Arthur pulled her up to sit behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight as he directed his horse into a gallop. Krola matched the horse’s pace as she ran beside them.

“Just so you know, I’m not a maiden who needs saving,” Ophelia told him breathlessly due to the great speed at which the horse was galloping.

“I know. But I’m not putting you at risk after you helped me. We should stay together,” Arthur indicated resolutely.

Ophelia appeared to accept that answer as she fell silent. Only the steady sound of the horse’s hooves was heard as they escaped those pursuing them.

~ * ~

It was the evening of the Feast of Gratitude.

Away from the great hall, Gwydion sat at the window alcove as he was disinterested in participating in the celebration. He had of course given his tribute to the phoenix-dragon statue earlier. Taking part in that ritual had been admittedly awe-inspiring as he’d given a small amount of his magic to the statue, and then the dark red dragon had breathed out a golden phoenix after the transaction. This willing donation would be directly received by the god of magic.

The magic was meant to return to you as it was more a show of belief in the god of magic’s majesty. King Merlin had told him that the god of magic would insure the health of the magic user with these yearly tributes of magic.

Yet it had been also perplexing when he had heard a deep masculine voice speak inside his head afterwards. The voice said, “And you must be a grandson of mine.”

Gwydion’s brow had furrowed, wondering who could possibly be saying that. Surely it couldn’t have been the god of magic. He wasn’t known to speak to anyone during these Feasts.

“You’re mistaken,” Gwydion replied silently back.

The man, or whoever he was, laughed a deep, hearty laugh. And then Gwydion had felt the foreign presence leave his mind.

He had put the odd conversation out of his mind as he settled down to read a book entitled, “The Art of Magical Weaponry.” The subject interested him far more than being in the midst of a crowd of people – especially some people who gave him scrutinizing looks due to the Prince of Darkness, an enemy of the World of Magic, being his formerly adoptive father. The less of that he had to contend with, the better.

Gwydion knew as he delved into the book that he needed to learn blacksmithing. He had to be involved in all the aspects in creating the knife. This meant he had to become an expert in making weapons, not just infusing the weapon with magic.

“Gwydion, I want you to meet someone,” Alice’s clear voice caused Gwydion to look up from his reading.

He inwardly groaned. She had a boy about his age, maybe a little older, with her. The boy’s piercing tawny-golden eyes contrasted with the moon silver of the jacket’s buttons. And judging by the boy’s very pale appearance and startlingly white hair, the stranger had to be a member of the White Diamond Clan. The Clan that his father, his former father at least, the Prince despised. No matter Gwydion’s loyalty being diminished to his adoptive father, he still couldn’t help but be overcome by the prejudice. Emphasizing his especially fair features, the boy had on a dark blue jacket.

“Hi Alice,” Gwydion greeted her, pointedly ignoring the boy. “You look nice,” he complimented her on her pale blue and gold dress. Anything to avoid talking to the White Diamond Clan boy.

Alice looked displeased, frowning, at Gwydion’s attitude towards the other boy. Yet she still accepted the compliment politely. “Thank you, Gwydion. Lyra helped me to pick it out.”  
Then she introduced him to the pale boy, “This is Bran, well, Lord Bran. Bran, this is Gwydion.”

“Hello. You can just call me Bran,” said Bran, speaking in an even, mildly friendly tone. Gwydion was sure Bran realized that he wasn’t wanted.

Gwydion didn’t bother looking at him as the other boy spoke. He turned the page of his book. “Another world’s version of me is King Merlin, so I could call you whatever I like. But right now, I just want you to go away. Thank you.”

“Gwydion!” Alice exclaimed, affronted. “Don’t be like that. We’re all celebrating the god of magic now. You should be more cheerful. And the least you could do is to be nice to visiting nobility…”

“Does nobility mean anything, honestly?” Gwydion ventured idly.

“It’s all right, Alice,” Bran assured her. “You can go see what my younger sisters are up to. I’ll be fine. I know what Gwydion’s problem is. It was nice to meet you.”

Alice smiled. “Thank you. And it was nice to meet you too,” she said.

She left them with a goodbye to Gwydion. He gave her a small smile.

After Alice departed, Gwydion continued to steadfastly ignore Bran.

“Could I sit here? There’s some room,” Bran indicated.

Gwydion granted him a withering look. “I thought I told you to go. I don’t want to talk to you. I’m sure someone of your station has plenty of bootlicker friends to converse with. As for me, I don’t lick boots. I’ll throw them at you and tell you to leave me alone. I don’t need anyone.”

Despite Gwydion’s coldness, Bran sat down in the empty space on the alcove. “Isn’t Alice your friend?”

“Alice is different,” Gwydion countered. “She’s a girl.”

Bran gave him a disbelieving look. “How is that a reason?”

“Why are you still talking to me?” Gwydion asked, annoyed.

“I know who you are, all right? And about the Prince. I heard what he planned to do with you, and I’m glad you were taken away from him.”

“Yes, it was nice that I was captured like a pawn. Brilliant,” Gwydion shot back at him.

“Well if you think about it, we’re all pawns to the Grim Reaper. After all, everyone will die one day, well, unless you want to pay the price for immortality.”

“I feel happier now, thanks,” Gwydion said, turning his attention back to his book.

“There’s another version of me in a different world too. Just the one since not everyone has as many as you do.”

“Are your stupid friends not interesting enough for you? Why are you still bothering me?” Gwydion groaned.

“Is there a rule against wanting more friends?”

“I am trying to read my book.”

“During a celebration? Isn’t that a bit of an odd activity to do when you should be--”

“What? Doing something fun? I don’t care if it’s odd. I like to read no matter what might be going on.”

Bran sighed, and he raised his hands in defeat. “All right. What are you reading?” He changed tact.

Gwydion eyed the other boy carefully. Then he decided that Bran was being somewhat sincere in his interest.

But as Gwydion handed the book to him, his fingers touched Bran’s as the young lord received the book from him.

And in his mind’s eye, Gwydion was startled to see a flying white raven. He frowned, confused what that vision could mean. Seeing a white raven – no matter in what way – was known to be an omen…but whether it was a good or bad one was always hard to discern.

“‘The Art of Magical Weaponry’. What are you reading this for?” Bran wondered.

“I showed you what I was reading, but I don’t have to tell you why,” He said stubbornly, taking the book back from Bran. “It doesn’t concern you,” Gwydion told him firmly, unwilling to share his hope of making the world-traveling knife.

Though he had confided in Morgan despite her being essentially a stranger, something about Bran was different. And it left Gwydion feeling uncomfortable with putting the other boy in his confidence. He still hadn’t even told King Merlin about the knife in spite of Morgan’s wishes. The less people he told, the more of a nice secret it was. He just wanted this one thing for himself. Just for a little while.

Maybe he would tell Bran…that was, if Bran was still interested in speaking to him in the future. Gwydion knew he wasn’t making it easy for Bran to befriend him, but the prejudice remained…and he didn’t want to appear desperate for a friend. With Alice, it had been easier because she was younger than him and he liked the idea of having a sort of younger sister. But in Bran, there was a magical rival. Since Bran was of the White Diamond Clan, Gwydion didn’t doubt that his magical abilities would rival his own.

And that bothered Gwydion. He was half-tempted to challenge Bran to a magical fight to see for certain who was better.

But that wouldn’t be a smart idea considering the White Diamond Clan being close allies of King Merlin’s. Gwydion didn’t want to threaten his place in this world since King Merlin’s acceptance of him was making his situation bearable enough. He didn’t want the King to be forced to lock him away in the dungeons due to intolerable behavior. Gwydion was sure some things would test that Code Morgan talked about, that some instances would put the King in the position to punish Gwydion by hurting him.

The Prince had always told him that life was a game of politics and that you had to tread carefully and use your head. Even now, after learning what his former father had in mind for him, Gwydion still followed that advice.

“Look. I know why you don’t like me, but I honestly just want to be a friend to you,” Bran declared, sounding quite sincere to Gwydion. “I can accept your behavior since you being another version of King Merlin carries some weight in your favor. I just ask that you not focus on the Clan I consider my family, but on me…just as a person.”

After Gwydion scrutinized him for a long moment, he recalled the flying white raven he had seen in his mind.

“Your name – Bran -- means ‘raven’, right?”

Bran nodded, looking at him strangely. “You have that right. It’s like your name being a type of bird as well.”

“My name is not!” Gwydion exclaimed, affronted, but then he realized Bran was referring to his birth name, Merlin. “Yes, fine.” He conceded glumly.

“Why are you asking?”

“I only wanted to make sure,” Gwydion informed him with a shrug. Then he set his book aside, ready to be more polite with Bran. “What is it about your other self? I didn’t let you tell me before…I’m…sorry about that,” he grit out, not finding it easy to admit.

Bran looked incredulous. “Now you’re being friendly? I don’t understand. What has changed?”

“I’m impressed by annoying persistence,” Gwydion told him in a teasing voice.

He decided it wasn’t worth the trouble being antagonistic toward Bran. He had to use his head after all. Maybe being Bran’s friend would be a good thing.

Bran shook his head. “All right. I’ll take that as a half-compliment,” he decided. “My other self is the son of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.”

“Wait. You mean King Arthur as in another world’s version of the Prince of Darkness?”

Bran nodded.

Gwydion was amused because the irony of the revelation was not lost on him. For Bran to have another version of himself who was the son of a different world's Arthur, an Arthur who was another version of an enemy of Bran's family, was one of the most ironic connections he'd ever encountered.

“So you understand the bit of stigma there. I have no control over the parentage of my other self. But I can’t erase the fact that another version of the Prince, the man I see as an enemy of the world I live in and love, is the father of another world’s version of me.”

“That’s not too bad. If the other you were the bastard son, then I could see the stigma there… but he’s legitimate, right?”

“Yes. I mean that does help. Most can look past that knowledge, realizing that I can’t change the connection. I simply have to live with it. I can’t imagine how you cope with all the otherselves you have.”

“I don’t think about them,” Gwydion said shortly. “That often,” he amended.

“I could understand it being difficult. My parents told me about the other Bran because I was curious about the existence of another version of me. They told me that they didn’t want to keep it from me. That I deserved to know."

Gwydion felt despondent, grasping the golden bracelet that kept him trapped in this world. He had no idea when he would be able to see other worlds again. King Merlin had to be assured that he could be fully trusted, Gwydion bet. And then he thought that most children his age never saw all the worlds he had seen when he had traveled with the Prince. So he counted himself lucky to have been able to do that.

“Why did your parents name you Bran? Was it to do with your other self? Or a fondness for ravens?” He asked, grinning at his small joke.

Bran gave him a look. “No. It didn’t have to do with either. I was named after Branwen, the honorary grand matriarch of my family. It was thanks to my mother that I have my name. She believes in that myth about how long ago, the Immortal, Branwen, stayed behind in this world. She had a choice between going to be with her family, the other Immortals, or staying with the man she loved in this world. Unfortunately that man wasn’t an Immortal and wasn’t permitted to live in that world granted only for Immortals. So her fellow Immortals left to live in the world granted to them by the gods while she chose love. She never saw her family again, but Branwen apparently loved the man enough to risk that terrible sacrifice,” he recounted sadly. “She married the man – his name was Eamon – and they worked together to magically hide her true identity from others. So that no one would come to bleed her out for the desired properties of Immortal blood. They succeeded, and it was said that Branwen had many children with Eamon, and my mother believes she is a descendant of one of those children,” he confided in Gwydion, though he clearly sounded like he didn’t much believe in his mother’s conviction.

Gwydion wondered if Bran just humored his mother about the belief and respected her decision to name him after a particularly brave woman, if the stories were in fact true.

“Making you a descendant too,” Gwydion concluded.

He was admittedly intrigued about the possibility that Bran could be a descendant of an Immortal, the people who had captivated Gwydion’s interest ever since he’d first learned about them.

“Yes, well, according to my mother,” Bran indicated. Then he looked carefully at Gwydion. “Do you believe in the Immortals?” He asked him.

“A little bit, yes. I can’t help it. The idea of them fascinates me,” Gwydion admitted.

“I suppose they would be fascinating. To be wise and possess blood that is so useful. And I appreciate my mother naming me after a courageous person. It just unnerves me to think of an Immortal being alive and bled out against their will. I don’t like to think about that because it scares me, honestly…”

Gwydion could empathize with the fear. He dreaded the thought of himself being put through such an ordeal. What an awful way to die. Maybe it was a good thing that in this present time, the stories of the Immortals had turned into myths and the possible truth of their existence had been lost over the years.

“You’re not alone there,” Gwydion assured him.

“Thanks,” said Bran with a small smile.

Then Gwydion couldn’t resist asking, though he already knew the answer. It wasn’t hard to deduce. “Branwen means ‘white raven’, doesn’t it?”

Bran raised his brow. “Big on name meanings, then? Yes, that’s what Branwen means.”

Gwydion could see the flying white raven in his mind’s eye again, and just for one fleeting moment, he thought the raven’s eyes glowed golden just as Bran’s eyes did.

~ * ~

“I bear news of the upcoming prophecy, My Lord. The prophecy that will nullify the old prophecy of the phoenix forgiving the wolf,” the Lady Sophia informed the Prince of Darkness.

The Prince looked to her, stroking the dark blue, silver spotted cat on his lap. The cat, Vaellushalu, had been Gwydion’s pet before he had been kidnapped. He had gifted the creature to the boy, and Gwydion had loved her – fondly calling her Vaella. Now with Gwydion gone thanks to that bloody conniving King Merlin, the cat was without its owner. But the Prince couldn’t bear to kill Vaella. After all, this was a rare type of star cat due to the startling feature of her star-shaped silver irises and her silver spots that glowed in the dark of the night. He’d had a harrowing time getting this particular cat. He’d be foolish to kill her.

And he was no fool.

“What is it? You speak of the prophecy concerning Gwydion?”

Lady Sophia nodded. “The exact words of the imminent prophecy are still unknown, but I’ve discovered through my sources that there is a second person involved.”

“And have your sources found out who this second person is?”

“Lord Jon and Lady Dierna’s son, Bran. He is eleven, a year older than Gwydion.”

“A little lord of the White Diamond Clan?” The Prince asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes. And Lady Nimueh says that Gwydion and Bran have interacted. This doesn’t bode well for the new prophecy’s failure. I know you see Gwydion as a son, and wouldn’t have the heart to kill him.”

The Prince looked at her steadily. “There is no prophecy speaking of Gwydion’s death. I do not know if he can die. But nevermind that. Of course we must eliminate the little lord then. He has three younger sisters, I believe, and it will be no loss to his parents. With the Clan’s belief in equality, they will just transfer the family wealth to the eldest daughter.”

“That is Lady Arya, My Lord. But the whole of the White Diamond Clan is our enemy. What does it matter if the parents will suffer the loss or not? I could see about having their entire family executed if you wish.”

“Only do as I ask you, nothing more,” the Prince told her firmly.

“Is this because of that wretched King taking away Gwydion? Has your mind become addled?” Sophia asked him, puzzled.

The Prince set the cat down on the ground, and then he stood up himself.

He grabbed the witch by the upper arms, and then he moved one hand to wrap around her pale throat. He applied a light pressure, not enough to constrict her airway, but enough to have her receive the message of what was to come following impertinence. “Do not dare question the state of my mind. Eliminate the little lord, only him. Do any more and you will not live to see the next day.”

Lady Sophia nodded. The Prince let go of her. “Yes, My Lord. I will insure the Lord Bran is eliminated. I apologize for speaking so poorly of you. You must know I would never do so in the presence of another.”

“I would expect so,” he said, a lingering threat in his words.

Sophia bowed to him as she departed his rooms.

The Prince had a new plan in mind now, and it didn’t involve the destruction of all the worlds. Yet no matter what this new prophecy may say, he still found the Lord Bran dangerous. He was a version of another Bran who was the legitimate son to a different world’s Arthur and his Queen Guinevere. That connection afforded the little lord certain qualities he wouldn’t otherwise possess, the Prince didn’t doubt that. While he wasn’t quite sure what specific danger Lord Bran posed to him and his plans, the Prince felt it wisest to kill the boy.

That was the best course to take now especially with the news that he and Gwydion had made contact with one another.

He recalled King Merlin’s talk of the affliction during his argument with the manipulative King. The Prince had denied that he had had the affliction, but now he feared this irritating affliction could evolve.

That Gwydion would catch it…even worse, that he had been afflicted by it already.

But then Vaella was calling for his attention by purring, and he let go of his grave concerns for the moment as he gave her the attention she sought.

~ * ~


	8. Finding the light and strengthening bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin has his free will back, but he can't forgive Arthur, denying Arthur the closeness they used to have. As Arthur barely manages to cope with Merlin's distance, how long will it take Merlin to open his heart to forgiveness?

“This needs to be done, Zlota,” Merlin said quietly. “I – we – can’t live like this. This has to be done.”

Merlin wasn’t really focusing on his phoenix dæmon as he knelt beside the wooden tub he was drowning Zlota in. He felt pain course through him, but he wasn’t concentrating on that either.  
  
The pain hurt so much that it hurt to even breathe.  
  
Merlin made it feel almost pleasant.  
  
Pain was good. It meant he would die soon.  
  
But then someone or something knocked him down, forcing Merlin to release his grip on Zlota. He had been keeping her submerged underwater, waiting until the moment where his life would end.  
  
The person who had stopped him was an older man in his thirties. He had dark brown hair and expressive blue eyes. By all rights, he was a rather handsome-looking man who could probably charm his way out of any situation. But Merlin still felt reassured by the man’s presence.  
  
“It’s done. It’s all right. I took care of the King and the Court Physician. You’re free, Merlin. You’ve been released,” The man informed him.  
  
Standing up, Merlin stared, mouth open, as the man took hold of Zlota gently, removing her from the water. Merlin didn’t feel uncomfortable upon the stranger’s contact with his dæmon. Instead, a comforting warmth spread through Merlin, not unlike when his mother touched Zlota, but slightly weaker. Still, it was something Merlin couldn’t miss and wonder about.  
  
Who was this man? And further, more perplexing, Merlin didn’t think this man was truly a mortal man at all. He was different…the magic surrounding him took Merlin’s breath away. And the man was speaking the truth. He felt the hold Uther had over him, thanks to the spellwork of the Physician, lift from his body.  
  
Merlin was nearly overwhelmed with emotion to feel his free will return to him. He was of his own mind again. And he was horrified that he’d almost drowned Zlota. Something inside him had wanted to free Merlin from his subjugation and thought ending his life by killing his dæmon would be the solution.  
  
Oh god. What could have happened if this strange man hadn’t come… the level Merlin had stooped to, to destroy his own dæmon, his own  _soul_ .  
  
His trust in Arthur had been his greatest folly. He would be wary of Arthur from now on. Never again. Never again would he trust the man who had betrayed him so.  
  
Merlin took Zlota from the man, who readily gave her back to him. He collapsed to the ground, hugging his dæmon desperately to him.  
  
“I’m sorry, so sorry, so sorry. I’m sorry,” he told her earnestly. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to. Oh Zlota, Zlocisty, please forgive me. Don’t ever leave me.”  
  
“It’s all right,” Zlota assured him softly. “I forgive you, always. Don’t cry, Merlin. Please.”  
  
But Merlin couldn’t abide by that request. He let the tears fall, the emotion taking him over. He didn’t even care about the stranger being present, just standing there, but giving Merlin his space. Merlin didn’t think the man was a complete stranger after all, judging by his earlier contact with Zlota. This man was family, somehow.  
  
“Who—who are you?” Merlin asked the man.  
  
The man sat down beside him. Merlin was grateful as he didn’t have the energy to stand at the moment. He just wanted to sit here and keep Zlota close to him for as long as he could.  
  
“My name is James. I’m your uncle. Your father was my older half-brother,” James explained to him calmly.  
  
“My father died when I was four. Arthur saw him doing magic and then he told Uther about it, and my father was condemned,” Merlin said, relishing recalling how Arthur had hurt him yet again.  
  
He would still have a father if Arthur had kept his mouth shut.  
  
“But Arthur was only five,” his uncle reminded him. “The man to blame is his father for spinning those ideas about magic in his head. I blame Uther, and so should you. Fortunately now Uther is no longer an issue.”  
  
Before the betrayal, Merlin had been able to see past Arthur’s mistake that led to terrible consequences. He had understood that Arthur had been too young then to realize the pain he would cause those who were left behind: Merlin without a father, his mother without her husband.  
  
It had been an unintentional accident.  
  
But now, Merlin just added Arthur’s long ago indiscretion as another reason to despise him.  
  
“I hate Arthur,” Merlin declared flatly.  
  
“He’s going to be King now,” James said.  
  
“Good. I hope he’s happy. I’ll go find another world to live in, and then I’ll be happy too as far away from the bastard as possible,” Merlin said viciously. “What was I thinking? Trusting someone with a wolf dæmon? I hate wolves. They’re dangerous and wait for the right moment to turn traitor, proud that they made someone look the fool. It’s what all wolves do. Damn them all. Damn them all.” Merlin repeated with a deep frown.  
  
He stroked Zlota’s feathers to calm himself, but still the litany of, “Arthur’s the wolf. He’s the traitor. He’s not to be trusted” went around his head and fueled his anger toward Arthur.  
  
“Merlin,” his uncle began. He placed his hand on his shoulder. “These thoughts you’re having, they’re not right. You and Arthur are meant to be close. I understand after this ordeal, you may need some space and time away from him, but you must not break with Arthur completely. Promise me that, Merlin,” he asked of Merlin.  
  
Merlin shrugged. He was barely listening to what his uncle was saying.  
  
“What are you? You’re not human, are you?” Merlin asked him, sharply changing the subject.  
  
His uncle sighed. “I’m the god of unnatural magic, meaning the magic inside humans. Whereas natural magic is--”  
  
“In the flora and fauna,” Merlin concluded. “I understand. Was my father a god too?”  
  
His uncle nodded. “He was. He was Father’s heir, the next god of magic, but your father fell in love with your mother, a mortal woman, and he wished to spend the rest of his life with her. And he wanted to be a proper father to you. You can’t live life as a god and as a human at the same time.”  
  
“So he gave up being a god,” Merlin said. “And he didn’t even get to see me grow up. It seems like such a waste.”  
  
“Every moment is precious. My mother was human, and I was with her for the first eleven years of my life. But then my father took me to attain my godly status and live as a god as was my fate, I guess. That sounds grim, I suppose, but it’s the truth,” James said in quiet resignation.  
  
He continued, more assured this time, “But I know my mother loved me and she cherished the time she had with me. She may have had a heavy heart that I had to leave her when I was still only a child, but she knew it was for the best. I’m sure your father is watching over you, and he’s glad that he even had a few years with you. It was better than the alternative, him being a god and not able to be fully involved in your life. I know what that’s like. I have a son now who I can’t be a proper father to because I chose to remain a god.”  
  
“His mother’s human?”  
  
James nodded. “Except, unfortunately, his mother died in childbirth. My son has been adopted. His name is Gwydion. He’s ten now. Anyway.”  
  
“Does Gwydion know you’re his birth father?” Merlin asked, having a feeling the answer was a no.  
  
“Well! Would you look at the time. I better get going,” James declared a little too forcefully. He stood up. “Arthur and Ophelia, a sorceress from the World of Magic, should be coming here to see you.”  
  
“Right,” Merlin said, half-distracted by the clear problem here of James having a son who didn’t even know James was his birth father.  
  
Would Gwydion ever find out? He deserved the right to know in Merlin’s opinion. He had never even met this boy and he felt strangely defensive on Gwydion’s behalf.  
  
Thinking about that was a welcome distraction from considering just how angry he was at Arthur and all the ways Arthur had slighted him over the two years they’d known each other.  
  
It was a nice break from that. Merlin needed it.  
  
“You’ll be all right, I hope?” James said. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you even so.”  
  
“I can think for myself again, and I have my magic to use if necessary. I’ll be fine,” Merlin said, deciding it best not voice his interest in attacking Arthur. Having magic for that was quite helpful.  
  
Merlin stood up to say goodbye, and his uncle pulled him into a strong embrace.  
  
“Good luck.” James told him.  
  
And then his godly uncle was gone. Outside the room, Merlin could hear hushed, urgent talks as people discussed the topic of the hour, King Uther’s death. Merlin used his magic to catch what the people of Camelot were saying in the castle and even down in the lower town. He wanted to know what people were thinking, and this was the safest, most convenient way to do so.  
  
He overheard musings about where Prince Arthur was, and would he now be King after turning against his father so publicly?  
  
The Prince’s behavior was most perplexing, Merlin heard people gossip. One moment, he was in exile with a sorcerer; and the next he was handing over the same sorcerer to a terrible fate. And yet the late King Uther still held his son in suspicion, not keeping him by his side but instead locking him away in a tall tower. A tower that the Prince had not long ago escaped to everyone’s surprise. And now he was being pursued by Uther’s men, a lady companion with the Prince as well.  
  
The question was, Was Prince Arthur fit to be King of Camelot?  
  
Now, Merlin’s answer to the question was a resounding no. He concealed himself with his magic as he wandered the corridors. He wanted to help enforce the talks of Arthur’s wavering mental state, but Merlin knew it was wisest to lie low and observe, not participate.  
  
Camelot was still a bad place for a magic user to be especially during this time of upheaval following the King’s death.  
  
The only thing to do now was to wait for Arthur to return from wherever he had ventured with this Ophelia. His ‘lady companion’ who, according to his uncle, was apparently a sorceress from the World of Magic. She must have been able to help Arthur drain the magic from the tower, and subsequently use that magic to escape the structure.  
  
~ * ~  
  
“Is this supposed to happen?” Arthur asked of Ophelia. He had released the extraordinary amount of magic inside him, and the result, apparently, was the creation of magical creatures.  
  
There were five phoenixes, two winged horses and two unicorns before them. The four-legged creatures surrounded the mystical birds. Three phoenixes had similar colouring to Zlota’s while the remaining two were blue and then white respectively.  
  
“Well it’s different for every person. Usually having these magical creatures appear is a reward for your good deed. You must insure the protection of these dear creatures, Arthur, as they are the hope of magic acceptance in your kingdom.”  
  
Arthur nodded. “I will do my best.”  
  
Krola was by his side, an ever-present source of assurance, as Arthur went and greeted each of the beautiful creatures. He pet the manes of the winged horses, and lightly touched each unicorn’s horn as if he were inspecting them. Kneeling for the phoenixes, Arthur looked upon them fondly, admiring these most magical of birds. He stroked their feathers gently as if he were afraid they’d come loose if he didn’t remain vigilant.  
  
Arthur stood up then, his task done. He looked to Ophelia who smiled at him.  
  
“As long as you believe in the goodness of magic, then these magical creatures shall thrive in your world,” she told him.  
  
The newly created animals departed, either galloping or flying away. Only one remained.  
  
And that was the snow-white phoenix.  
  
Arthur looked at the lone phoenix thoughtfully.  
  
“I think this little one is meant for a different purpose. Do you know what to do with her?” Ophelia asked.  
  
“She looks so lovely. I would keep her,” Char, still in his small dragon form, spoke up enthusiastically.  
  
“How do you know this phoenix is a female?” Arthur asked Ophelia.  
  
“I’m from the World of Magic, Arthur. We learn a lot about phoenixes as they are one of the sacred magical creatures after all.”  
  
“Right, of course. I should have guessed,” Arthur said with a nod. “I know what to do with her, I think. At least where to give her a good home.”  
  
Arthur took the small white phoenix in his hands. The bird was not yet fully-grown, only about the size of his head. He walked purposefully to an oak tree that he knew well. Quietly, Ophelia walked beside him. Krola went a little ahead of them. Arthur knew that his dæmon was aware of where he wished to go.  
  
When they reached the great big oak tree, it was still surrounded by three younger oak trees – a familiar, comforting sight to Arthur since he was five years old.  
  
“The big oak tree will be the phoenix’s new home,” Arthur said out loud.  
  
“What shall you name her?” Ophelia asked him.  
  
“I don’t know…Snow-White, maybe?” Arthur suggested.  
  
“That certainly is fitting,” she indicated, referring to the stark whiteness of the phoenix.  
  
Arthur gave her an acknowledging smile. He lifted his hands and let the phoenix fly up into the tree.  
  
“I bet Snow-White could hide very well in the snow. A perfect cover,” Krola remarked.  
  
Arthur shook his head wryly at her, patting her furry white head.  
  
“You would be as lucky as her, Krola, to hide in the snow just as efficiently,” Ophelia put in.  
  
“Yes, you and the phoenix would make quite the team, Krola,” Arthur said, smiling in bemusement.  
  
He then turned his attention back to the tree.  
  
“Please take care of Snow-White,” Arthur solemnly spoke to the oak tree as if it could answer back.  
  
Arthur knew the tree would understand his request. For the big oak tree was a dryad who could transform into a human-looking nymph as well as an oak tree. She was Merlin’s paternal grandmother, but Merlin didn’t even know.  
  
The leaves of the oak tree rustled as if accepting what Arthur wanted of her.  
  
Ophelia looked like she was bursting with questions about Arthur’s connection with the tree, but thankfully she let Arthur keep his secrets.  
  
“What is this white rose engraving? Do you know who put it there?” Ophelia asked him.  
  
Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. Must have been an artist who had passed by the tree one day.”  
  
“Quite a nice engraving,” Ophelia remarked sincerely.  
  
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah it is, isn’t it?” Then Arthur looked ahead toward Camelot. “I think it’s time we head to the castle, and save Merlin.”  
  
“Yes.” Ophelia agreed. “And it’s best for you to change back into a mouse, Char. You’ll attract less attention then.”  
  
They went on their way.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Arthur and Ophelia soon found out that King Uther and the blasted Court Physician were both death. Arthur could now be King. But most importantly, the terribly controlling spell on Merlin had been lifted.  
  
When they encountered Merlin in a long abandoned dusty set of chambers, Arthur’s worst imagining came to light. Merlin stared coldly at Arthur, and Zlota just pretended that he and Krola didn’t exist. Instead, Merlin’s phoenix dæmon looked intently in Ophelia’s direction.  
  
Soon, Merlin’s blue-eyed gaze turned toward Ophelia as well. It was as if Arthur wasn’t even there, like he was just a servant meant to be invisible and not to be acknowledged.  
  
“Hello, you must be Ophelia,” Merlin assumed with a small, somewhat forced smile. Arthur wondered if his presence was bothering Merlin. Arthur didn’t doubt it, though that knowledge hurt him deeply.  
  
“Yes,” Ophelia said politely, glancing at Arthur in silent apology at Merlin ignoring him. “And this little mouse is Char,” she told Merlin, pointing out Char who was on her shoulder. Char looked more interested in looking at Zlota than Merlin.  
  
“Nice to meet the both of you,” Merlin said. “You’re from this World of Magic, right?” He asked Ophelia.  
  
She nodded. “Yes. I can offer you to come to my world. King Merlin would be very pleased to see you. He’ll make sure you’re settled and comfortable, and I bet there are some tasks you can do to pass the time.”  
  
Arthur just had to speak up. He couldn’t bear to be silent any longer. “And as soon as I’ve stabilized the situation here, Merlin, after I repeal the anti-magic laws, then you can return home,” he assured Merlin.  
  
Merlin turned to face him. His expression tight. He glared at Arthur. “Nothing you ever do will be enough,” he said sharply, the words cutting Arthur to the core.  
  
Then he swept out of the room without once looking back at Arthur.  
  
“That could have gone better,” Ophelia said quietly. She looked as unhappy as Arthur felt. “I’ll go after him since he seems okay with speaking to me. I don’t know if I could appeal him to you, but…”  
  
Arthur shook his head. “No, don’t worry about it. This is something I have to figure out myself. You’ve helped me more than enough, Ophelia. I thank you for that. Just take Merlin to the World of Magic. He’ll be happier there than here…”  
  
Arthur wanted to add “with me”, but he couldn’t bear it. If the words were spoken out loud, that would make the terrible truth even truer.  
  
Ophelia frowned, looking sad for him. “Oh Arthur. I’ll do my best, but I’m sure your Merlin is far from happy. He may be hiding it very well now, but I don’t doubt his heart aches for the bond you two shared. Please don’t lose hope,” she implored of him.  
  
Then she embraced Arthur in a hug that Arthur found partly comforting while the other half of him yearned for the closeness he had had with Merlin. The closeness that may now be lost forever.  
  
Ophelia gave him a small reassuring smile as she and Char went to find Merlin.  
  
Arthur just stood there, Krola whining miserably beside him, in the empty room. He wanted to cry, but he would soon officially be the King of Camelot. Kings didn’t show weakness, so Arthur had to be strong. Even though on the inside, he was sobbing so hard that his vision was blurred with tears.  
  
He’d always thought being crowned King of his land, of his people, would be a joyous occasion. But with the deep fracture in his relationship with Merlin, Arthur’s wish for that joy was not to be. Only a long hard road lay ahead of him now.  
  
He feared he would break under the weight of the burden of his betrayal.  
  
~ * ~  
  
“It’s a pity, you know, that you have to die, Lord Bran,” said Sophia all too sweetly as she carried out her mission as per the instructions of the Prince of Darkness.  
  
In his bed, Bran was incapacitated, his eyelids fluttering and he tried to move away from her, but he was too weak. The only solid chance of getting enough usable Immortal blood was to drain him completely. The level of Immortal blood decreased with each succeeding generation after all. So Sophia cut his palm with a sharp dagger, and she began magically collecting the blood from him.  
  
“I know some people who would be very interested in despoiling you first. The Dark World has harems for youths, and you would be high in demand, I’d imagine. Exotic, even, being white as snow as you are, and eyes like gold.”  
  
“I –hate—you,” whispered Bran harshly.  
  
“Now, don’t say that,” Sophia chided him. She stroked his cheek, and then she moved her hand down to his chest, feeling the boy’s heart beat faster with adrenaline and anxiety. Then she smiled wickedly as she reached his waist and made it look like she would go a little lower, slipping a finger inside his breeches.  
  
Bran made a small disapproving noise at her intent of fondling him. She could feel some of his magic sparking; attempting to make her leave, but the effort was feeble.  
  
His magic couldn’t help him now. Sophia made sure of that.  
  
“You will get away from Bran,” spoke a voice that she swore was Gwydion’s, but sounded strangely deeper, more commanding.  
  
Sophia stood up, turning around sharply. “Gwydion?” She asked. Though it certainly looked like him, the deep, echoing voice coming from him was far from that of a ten-year old boy.  
  
“Return his blood back to him.”  
  
“What has gotten into you?” Sophia couldn’t help but utter.  
  
Gwydion looked relaxed, confident in his own power, as he spoke and coolly stared down Sophia.  
  
“Now please,” Gwydion said quietly, a clear threat underlying his words.  
  
Sophia felt a bit foolish, but she was beginning to fear Gwydion. He looked like he would unleash terrible pain upon her if she disregarded his words. The Prince’s blasted little pawn rat of a child had something more to him than met the eye.  
  
“Do it now, or else you will suffer.”  
  
“All right! Fine. You stupid boy.”  
  
She sat back down, turning his attention back to Bran who had now fallen unconscious from the blood loss. She magically returned the blood she had taken from Bran. She couldn’t concentrate all that well as she felt Gwydion’s blue eyes boring into the back of her head. The wretched child was unnerving her.  
  
Once she had finished, Sophia felt herself growing warmer, too warm. And she didn’t think that she had suddenly contracted a fever.  
  
“I’m not stupid,” said Gwydion simply.  
  
And then Sophia screamed as she saw fire start to engulf her from the feet up.  
  
“Bran is under my protection,” Gwydion spoke carefully with force.  
  
And that was the last thing she heard before the flames licked her body fully, burning her to death.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Gwydion paid little mind to Sophia’s ashes in a pile on the ground.  
  
He looked to Bran who had awoken, colour gradually returning to him as he started to recover thanks to his blood being regained.  
  
“Are you all right?” He asked Bran earnestly. His voice was back to normal.  
  
Gwydion couldn’t explain where that strange commanding voice had come from or the sensation he’d had of being so self-assured of his power and ability to get what he wanted. The voice had reminded him of the god of magic when he had spoken to him the night of the Feast.  
  
He had just known that Bran had been in trouble and he had to save him. It had been that simple.  
  
Gwydion approached him, but stopped to resist the temptation to reach out to Bran, to touch him to insure that he was well and truly all right and healed.  
  
Bran stared at Gwydion oddly. Then he looked at the collection of ashes on the ground. “Gwydion…” He began, and then paused. He appeared especially uncertain about what to say.  
  
“Your magic is okay, is it? You’re all right?”  
  
“My magic is fine. I’m okay, it’s just…did you kill her? Lady Sophia?” Bran asked. “I only met you yesterday night. I didn’t expect you to save my life.”  
  
“But I had to, Bran… you must feel it, don’t you? We’re connected, I think. I couldn’t let you die. You would do the same for me?”  
  
“Yes of course. I wouldn’t leave you to die, of course not. It’s just, Gwydion, you’re younger than me…and you just killed someone. She was a bad person, yes, but still.”  
  
“You’re not afraid of me, are you? You don’t need to be.”  
  
“No, Gwydion, I’m not.”  
  
“We’re still friends, right?”  
  
“Yes, but…”  
  
“You don’t feel it? You don’t feel what I feel?” Gwydion asked, a wave of sadness threatened to overwhelm him. He felt like he was about to cry, but he did his best to stifle the emotions. He had to be strong.  
  
Bran looked thoughtful, which gave Gwydion hope. “I sometimes have strange dreams with a bluebird always on my shoulder. The bird feels comforting for some reason, like an old friend,” Bran recalled. “It’s odd because since I met you, I thought you and the dreams with the bluebird were connected somehow. So maybe you’re right, maybe we were meant to be friends. Maybe we were meant to meet.”  
  
“A bluebird?” Gwydion asked, raising his brow. “That’s strange.” He remarked. “I should stay here with you for the rest of the night. I can protect you.”  
  
“I have my magic, Gwydion. I’ll be perfectly all right. I promise.”  
  
“Please, Bran.” He insisted, not above pleading.  
  
Bran sighed. “Okay. Sure. I’d like that.”  
  
Gwydion smiled.  
  
He gripped Bran’s hand as he fell asleep, the hand an anchor for him, reminding him that Bran was still alive.  
  
Gwydion was happy when he felt Bran return the pressure, and then he whispered to Gwydion, “Thank you for saving my life.”  
  
They were truly friends now, Gwydion thought with a smile.  
  
~ * ~  
  
“What are they doing there? It looks like they’re trying to eavesdrop,” Gwydion noted.  
  
He, Bran and Alice had decided to explore the forest because Gwydion hadn’t had a proper chance to yet. Bran had suggested that his younger sister, Arya, who was about Gwydion’s age, would want to come along too.  
  
Arya and another girl, a redhead, were taking a cautious peek through the doors of the council chambers. Arya had the same white hair as Bran, but hers went past her shoulders and was knotted in a braid. Her eyes were dark in colour in contrast to Bran’s light golden eyes.  
  
“Someone interesting must be speaking to King Merlin, I bet,” Bran declared.  
  
“Who’s the girl with her?” Alice asked quietly.  
  
Gwydion couldn’t miss Bran getting a little uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his head. Yet he answered as smoothly as he could, “That’s Lady Sansa. She’s a friend of mine.”  
  
“She’s pretty,” Alice remarked.  
  
Gwydion shrugged. He wasn’t really interested in admiring girls now. He’d much rather head into certain danger than deal with girls because that was much more exciting. But Alice was all right.  
  
And from what Bran had told him about Arya, she seemed like just the sort of person Gwydion would want to spend time with.  
  
“Thanks.” Bran said, and then he poked Gwydion in the shoulder in response to Gwydion’s disinterest.  
  
Gwydion only grinned at him.  
  
“Hey, what’s so interesting?” Gwydion raised his voice, calling Arya and Sansa’s attention.  
  
Both girls startled, but then Arya smiled while Sansa looked a bit guilty for being caught eavesdropping.  
  
“Oh, you must be Gwydion,” Arya said. “I’m Bran much cleverer younger sister. I’m sure he told you.”  
  
Bran gave a long sigh.  
  
“I think I like her already,” Gwydion quipped. “Nice to meet you, Arya and Lady Sansa, is it?” He asked of her.  
  
Sansa’s eyes were a pale blue and they managed to even outshine her fire-red hair.  
  
Sansa nodded, smiling quietly. “Yes, that’s me. You can call me Sansa,” she said. “And you’re Alice?” She addressed the younger girl.  
  
“Yes, hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alice said. “You’re Bran’s friend then?”  
  
“Yes, something like that,” Sansa acknowledged, giving Bran a significant look.  
  
Gwydion was more concerned about what the girls were eavesdropping on than deciphering the look. Bran would surely tell him what he was missing at some point.  
  
“So what’s going on in the chambers?” Gwydion asked.  
  
“Yeah, I’d love to know,” Alice chimed in.  
  
“King Merlin’s speaking to someone, right?” Bran guessed.  
  
Arya nodded. “Sansa and I were lucky enough to see the visitor. So cool. He looked like the King a bit, but without a beard. And the best part is the man had a big scarlet-gold phoenix with him. It was the man’s dæmon, I think. I wish we could find out what they’re talking about, but the room’s been magically soundproofed.”  
  
“Oh Gwydion,” Alice exclaimed. “that must be Myrddin or Merlin, that man I saw before I came to this world.”  
  
“Great. Another world’s version of him in this world. It feels like the world’s getting smaller now,” Gwydion bemoaned.  
  
Bran chuckled. “Don’t be so enthusiastic about it, Gwydion,” he remarked.  
  
Gwydion gave him a pointed look. “I’ve half-a-mind to run away.”  
  
Arya appeared excited, clapping her hands together. “Oh good! Then we could all run away together and make an adventure of it.”  
  
“Yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea, Arya,” Bran said dryly.  
  
She stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
“We were thinking of exploring in the forest,” Alice brought up. “We were hoping the two of you would like to join us.”  
  
“That sounds like a nice idea. I’d like to come,” agreed Sansa.  
  
“I’m definitely up for that,” declared Arya easily with a grin.  
  
So with that, the five of them navigated the corridors full of miniature dragons and floating fairies until they reached the entrance.  
  
Once they were outside, Arya spoke up.  
  
“We should play a game,” Arya decided. “What sort of creature would your dæmon be if you had one?” She suggested.  
  
“Mine would be a lion!” Gwydion declared immediately. He magically conjured the sound of a lion’s roar, and smiled, pleased, at everyone’s impressed looks at the very realistic roar.  
  
Bran raised his brow. “You just suggested that because you wanted to show off the roar. Isn’t a dæmon something that requires more thought? An animal that best fits your personality?”  
  
“I’m positive my dæmon would be a lion. Without a doubt. Like yours would be a raven,” Gwydion said confidently.  
  
“Bran’s dæmon is boring and so obvious,” Arya said smartly.  
  
Bran raised his hands. “My name meaning raven doesn’t mean my dæmon will be a raven,” he defended.  
  
“Nooo, it’s a raven…maybe a white raven though, ok, that would be amazing,” Arya suggested with interest.  
  
“A white raven would be lovely,” Sansa remarked sincerely. “For me, I believe my dæmon would be a little bird of pale yellow colouring. Small but graceful.”  
  
“Then you and Bran would work well together, both having bird dæmons,” Gwydion spoke up wisely.  
  
“All of you are still assuming--” Bran started wearily.  
  
“Don’t deny it, Bran,” Gwydion shot back.  
  
“What is your answer then, Bran? If not a raven?” Sansa asked him.  
  
Bran looked at her and at everyone else, Gwydion’s lips twisted in amusement.  
  
“I respectfully choose not to answer the question,” Bran decided after a long moment.  
  
Alice put in, wondering, “Maybe it could be a crow…”  
  
Gwydion laughed out loud then as Bran also meant crow.  
  
He congratulated Alice on her comment yet Alice didn’t quite understand what was so funny.  
  
Bran groaned, and he glared at Gwydion to stop laughing. His face becoming red from mirth, Gwydion coughed, and his laughter subsided soon after.  
  
“My dæmon would be a dolphin,” said Arya self-assuredly.  
  
“With all those pictures and books you have on dolphins, I’m not surprised there,” said Bran.  
  
Arya grinned.  
  
“But you have to stay close to your dæmon, right? You have to spend all your life in the water then, Arya,” Gwydion told her.  
  
She shrugged. “I’m more than ready for that.”  
  
“You have to be a mermaid, I suspect,” Alice figured. She giggled.  
  
“Even better,” Arya said with a nod. “Always wanted to be one,” she revealed.  
  
“I’m not sure what my dæmon would be,” considered Alice. “While a small dragon would be nice, I do like furry animals more. A creature soft and warm to the touch. A dog, maybe?”  
  
“Or a furry dragon?” Arya suggested.  
  
“That’s one mutation I don’t want to see,” said Bran, looking like he was visualizing it that moment.  
  
“I agree,” Alice said with a nod.  
  
“So Alice, do you think your brother’s dæmon would be a dragon?” Gwydion wondered. “Once he’s a fully trained Dragonlord?”  
  
Arya’s eyes widened. “Okay, now, that would be an epic dæmon. Your brother’s so lucky. It would make a lot of sense to have a dragon dæmon if you’re a Dragonlord.”  
  
“I’m not sure, honestly, but I’d be proud of Robin if he did have a dragon dæmon,” said Alice.  
  
“So I guess Alice’s brother wins this round and he’s not even here,” Bran declared.  
  
“Oh no. My lion was clearly the victor,” Gwydion retorted stubbornly.  
  
“I’ll race you, and whoever wins is right,” Bran suggested.  
  
“You have a deal.” Gwydion acknowledged.  
  
So the two of them raced through the forest, the girls cheering them on.  
  
Gwydion and Bran ended up tying in their impromptu race. They collapsed on to the forest floor, grinning at each other.  
  
~ * ~  
  
Epilogue (Five Years Later)  
  
“I’m glad you could come,” King Merlin told Merlin.  
  
Merlin shrugged. “I couldn’t not come. I had to see Gwydion. I want to help him.”  
  
King Merlin nodded. “Of course. I feel the same way. Since Gwydion is a younger Merlin, I feel protective of him quite often,” the King confided in Merlin. “Your Arthur was unable to come with you?” He inquired idly.  
  
Merlin made a fist with one hand, his mouth set in a tight line. The last person he wanted to talk about was Arthur.  
  
“Yes. He was unfortunately busy with important matters of state,” Merlin remarked. “He thought it best I come on my own and stay for Lord Bran and Lady Sansa’s wedding, as a representative of the kingdom. Of course I wanted to be here anyway to see Gwydion and help him if I can.”  
  
Years after the betrayal, Merlin still hadn’t forgiven Arthur. He felt like he’d be the fool to make it easy for Arthur. He couldn’t forgive the one man who he used to trust above all others. Despite the circumstances of Arthur’s betrayal, the terrible pain and horror he felt when he thought of what Arthur had put him through couldn’t be forgotten.  
  
Merlin wanted Arthur to suffer with his guilt. Maybe that made him seem petty for wanting to exact revenge on Arthur, but Merlin believed he had the right to cause Arthur pain in retribution for the betrayal.  
  
His relationship – or more like acquaintance – with Arthur had remained strained and had settled into a tolerant politeness. Merlin was invested in the future of his world’s Camelot. He did what he could to help Arthur build the magic-friendly Camelot Merlin had always envisioned for the kingdom.  
  
But Merlin had done his best to avoid spending time alone with Arthur. When that did happen, Arthur would usually start pleading with Merlin to properly forgive him. Merlin didn’t give into him, and all those times, he wanted to shake Arthur, scream at him, “How dare you??!! How could you do that to me?? I wish you’d just go away!”  
  
He had been tempted to punch him in the face. A few times Merlin very nearly had done so, but instead he’d maintained his composure as best as he could and turned his back on Arthur. Merlin walked away from him. He was almost positive that if he had turned back around to see Arthur’s face – his face would bear a pitiful, almost lost expression.  
  
That’s why Merlin couldn’t look. Seeing Arthur fall apart, revealing the crack in his kingly shield, would test Merlin’s resolve to never forgive the man.  
  
King Merlin spoke, thankfully discussing Gwydion instead of commenting further on Arthur’s absence. “I’m afraid there’s not much you can do for Gwydion. We’re doing all we can already. He would be glad that you came, though, I know he would. Gwydion will heal and return to health. He is stronger than most thanks to the god’s blood in him. And he is only fifteen. At his age, his body is strong and able to overcome this sickness. The question is when he’ll be well again. It may take weeks. Poor lad.”  
  
“So he definitely won’t be present at the wedding tomorrow? Couldn’t the ceremony be postponed? I know how close Gwydion is to Bran and Sansa. I would imagine he’d be unhappy about missing their wedding.”  
  
“Regrettably, the wedding must continue on schedule. The Prince attempted to halt the union by making Bran fall terribly ill. It was only due to Gwydion’s selfless intervention that saved him. Bran’s parents are concerned that if they delay the wedding, the Prince will strike again to hurt Bran.”  
  
“And you believe Bran getting married would be powerful enough to protect Bran from the Prince?” Merlin asked in undisguised skepticism. He didn’t particularly believe in the strength of such a spell.  
  
King Merlin nodded. “With Bran and Sansa’s union being made official in matrimony, and then consummation, then the Prince cannot kill Bran. So the wedding must happen tomorrow. Gwydion will understand why. He would want Bran to be protected in the best manner possible.”  
  
“Yet they’re both sixteen. It seems young to get married. I understand if the matter with the Prince is so dire that time is not on their side, but still…it  _is_ young.”  
  
“It’s quite common for nobility to get married that young in this world. Freya and I were married at eighteen, actually. But as you’re aware, Bran’s case doesn’t allow for the luxury of time. And you know how Bran is. He is quite mature and grounded for his young age of sixteen. He’ll make a good husband for Sansa,” the King told Merlin confidently.  
  
When they entered Gwydion’s chambers, Merlin could smell the staleness of sick in the room, futilely veiled by a light perfume.  
  
Alice and Lady Sansa were on either side of Gwydion’s bed. At the foot of the bed, Gwydion’s rare star cat, Vaella, slept comfortably.  
  
Alice, now twelve years old, was already proving to be a beautiful girl with long blonde hair and unforgettable blue eyes.  
  
Alice smiled at Merlin when she saw him.  
  
“Alice dear,” King Merlin asked her gently. “The Queen would like to see you.”  
  
She nodded. “All right. Of course, Your Majesty.” Alice agreed.  
  
She squeezed Gwydion’s limp hand yet the boy only murmured unintelligible words in response. His eyes stayed closed as he remained in the grips of the unrelenting vicious illness.  
  
Alice frowned, but she leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his brow. Merlin heard her whisper to Gwydion, “I know you’re not fond of your birth father, Gwydion, but I don’t doubt he’s watching over you right now in the Heavens, making sure you’ll be well again. I’ll be back soon.”  
  
After she finished with Gwydion, Alice greeted Merlin somberly and then she followed King Merlin out of the room.  
  
He sat down in the chair previously occupied by Alice.  
  
“I’ve heard from some servants that they swear Gwydion’s father has been visiting him during the night. They feel his presence,” Sansa confided in him.  
  
“That’s good to hear,” said Merlin. “I didn’t doubt that James would be here for him.”  
  
Sansa nodded. “This is hard on Bran as you can imagine. He feels guilty.”  
  
“Bran didn’t want Gwydion to do it?” Merlin guessed.  
  
She shook her head. “No, of course not. But unfortunately Gwydion can be stubborn at times.”  
  
In the past, Merlin knew he would have acted the same way if Arthur’s life had been in danger. Yet now, he just couldn’t imagine sacrificing himself for the sake of a man who had betrayed him so deeply.  
  
Then Bran came into the room. He looked wrecked. His eyes were red probably from crying, and his tawny golden eyes were darker than usual.  
  
“It’s good to see you, Merlin,” Bran said quietly.  
  
“Yes, you too,” Merlin answered him, unsure what to say to him considering the tragic situation with Gwydion.  
  
“Oh Bran. You look terrible,” Sansa declared. She stood up and went over to him. He kissed her softly on the lips. “You know Gwydion will be all right. Of course he will be,” she reassured him.  
  
“I just can’t help but think that this one time, he won’t be as invincible as sometimes he believes he is. I hate to think that, but I can’t let go of that thought,” Bran confessed with a heavy heart.  
  
Sansa embraced him, and she whispered something into his ear.  
  
He gave a slight nod. Though Merlin offered his chair to Bran, the younger man declined saying that Merlin had more right to stay because he was another world’s version of Gwydion, and more so his cousin as well.  
  
Bran took Sansa’s seat instead. Sansa stood beside him as he reached out to hold Gwydion’s hand.  
  
That was when unexpectedly, Gwydion began to choke.  
  
Bran looked horrified, like his touch had caused it. He took his hand away from Gwydion.  
  
Yet Gwydion continued to make gagging noises like something had gone down the wrong way. “Gwydion? Gwydion?” Bran called to him urgently.  
  
Merlin, anxious to help, positioned Gwydion so that he was sitting upright. When he touched Gwydion, the worrying choking sound stopped fortunately. Merlin didn’t have to resort to slapping his back to stop his choking. Gwydion’s eyes opened and he started coughing, the cough turning into a dry, hoarse one.  
  
Bran conjured a glass of water for Gwydion and he took it appreciatively.  
  
“Do you know why you were choking?” Bran asked him.  
  
“I’m not sure,” Gwydion admitted, his voice weak from disuse due to the illness ravaging his body. His gaze went to Merlin, then Sansa, and then lastly, to Bran. “But I think something is about to happen,” he declared, coughing as he did so.  
  
Gwydion gave Bran a small smile, and he reached out to grasp his hand. Bran moved closer to him so that Gwydion could better grab his hand from his bed.  
  
Suddenly, a golden light swept through the room. It looked like the light was coming directly from Gwydion. The light seemed to enter Bran and made him glow fleetingly, to Bran’s own surprise, and then the golden light only appeared to grow and spread out beyond the room. The four of them saw the light go out the window.  
  
“The prophecy,” Sansa announced, guessing what the light meant.  
  
At the same moment, Gwydion, still smiling and looking a little pleased, declared that he was awfully tired and he fell asleep.  
  
Bran looked shaken. “I should go…King Merlin needs to be made aware.”  
  
“But Bran, the prophecy,” Sansa reminded him gently. “You know what this means.”  
  
Bran smiled at Sansa. “Yes I know. But all I honestly want now is for Gwydion to regain his health. We don’t know if Gwydion causing the prophecy to take effect will heal him. I hope it does.”  
  
“I’m sure it will,” Merlin spoke up. “The prophecy is about defeating the Prince after all. It can only be a good omen for Gwydion’s sake.”  
  
“Yes, you do have a point there,” Bran acknowledged.  
  
He left the room.  
  
Merlin turned to Sansa. “How can you marry Bran even though you know about the prophecy? Gwydion just expressed that his love for Bran is strong enough to save all the worlds from the Prince’s wrath.”  
  
“I can’t come between them,” Sansa said reasonably. “I love Bran, I do, and maybe it isn’t as much as Gwydion loves him, but I’ve seen how strong their friendship is. Gwydion and Bran are meant for big things, the sort of things people will see as legendary one day. I can only accept that. They make each other happy. I know Bran truly loves me, that he has room in his heart to do so, and that’s enough for me.”  
  
“Bran’s lucky to have you,” Merlin declared frankly.  
  
“Thank you, Merlin,” Sansa said.  
  
As Sansa tended to Gwydion, Merlin contemplated forgiving Arthur. He was inspired after seeing the prophecy unravel just now, the golden light sweeping through everywhere. It was a sight that he would never forget.  
  
And then he thought that if things had gone differently for Gwydion and he had remained under the Prince’s care, then Bran would have still been his enemy since he was of the White Diamond Clan. Gwydion being kidnapped was the best thing that had happened to him. He had gained good friends, and a strong ally and confidante in Bran. Merlin knew that Gwydion would get better and succeed in making the Raven Knife, the knife that would have the same abilities as his Arthur’s Excalibur.  
  
It was time. Arthur’s betrayal had been ugly and Merlin hated that Arthur had done that to him. But still, they had had a strong relationship before the betrayal. Did Merlin want to destroy that completely by never forgiving Arthur? Maybe he could give them a chance again at regaining the bond they had lost.  
  
In her firefly form on his shoulder, Zlota spoke up, “I think we should give him a chance. For the bond between you and Arthur to be utterly irreparable is a tragedy. Like Sansa said about Gwydion and Bran being meant for legendary deeds as a pair. You and Arthur are the same way.”  
  
“Yes, Zlota. You’re right. It’s time,” Merlin decided. “I wish I could have seen it sooner, but it’s not too late. I won’t let it be,” he declared fiercely.  
  
With that decision made, Merlin looked forward to returning to his world’s Camelot after the wedding.  
  
~ * ~  
  
With her Scottish terrier dæmon, Troy, following after her; Gwen approached Merlin once he’d returned home after his time in the World of Magic for the wedding. Merlin was immediately concerned at the anxious expression upon Gwen’s face.  
  
While Gwen enjoyed her time in the World of Magic, her sanctuary from Uther’s wrath when he had still been alive; she had returned home to the Dæmon World. She had told him that she still yearned for home no matter how lovely the World of Magic was, so she had come back. Her return was not long before Merlin’s return home four years ago.  
  
It took Arthur about a year to establish an acceptable peace in Camelot. Though Merlin returned after a year in the World of Magic, their relationship wasn’t magically healed. Merlin was left advising Arthur, making sure not to make too great displays of magic in public so as not to unsettle Camelot’s citizens. After all, so long with the anti-magic measures, it would take longer for everyone to be comfortable with the free use of magic.  
  
Fortunately, five years since Merlin left Arthur to spend time in the World of Magic, the people of the Dæmon World’s Camelot were starting to truly accept magic and the good it could do. Merlin could finally use his magic in public and most people didn’t shy away in fear. It was progress.  
  
“What is it, Gwen? Arthur?” Merlin guessed easily. He knew Arthur had his bouts of his melancholy and despair because Merlin wouldn’t be open to forgiving him. These days, he was the only person that would leave Gwen so upset and seeking Merlin’s help.  
  
Guilt swept through Merlin at being the reason why Arthur felt this way.  
  
“He’s in a worse state than he’s ever been,” Troy informed him.  
  
Gwen nodded. “He’s locked himself in his chambers. He won’t let anyone in. You need to do something. Of course--”  
  
“Yes. I know it’d be best if I forgive Arthur. Don’t worry, Gwen. Being in the World of Magic for the wedding has changed my view on life. I’m ready to forgive him,” Merlin declared.  
  
Gwen smiled softly, tears welling up in her eyes. “Oh Merlin!” She said, pleased, as she embraced him.  
  
When she pulled away from him, Gwen said, “I wish you good luck. I’m so glad you’re ready to do this,” she told him emphatically.  
  
“I am too,” Merlin acknowledged. “Come on, Zlota. Time to spread your wings,” he said to his dæmon .  
  
She shifted from a firefly to her phoenix form and sat perched on his shoulder.  
  
“See you later, Gwen, Troy,” Merlin said to her and her dæmon. He steeled himself for the task at hand.  
  
“We can do this,” Zlota said to Merlin encouragingly.  
  
Silently, Merlin was half-hopeful, half-worried that it was too late. That he’d had Arthur wait for too long that his chance of forgiving him was gone forever.  
  
Once he reached Arthur’s chambers, Merlin opened the well-locked door with a touch of his magic.  
  
“Arthur?” Merlin called out quietly.  
  
Zlota flew away from him, and when she returned, she informed Merlin that Arthur was sitting in front of the hearth with Krola.  
  
Merlin ventured in that direction. His heart broke when he saw Arthur just sitting there, staring listlessly at the hearth’s crackling flames.  
  
He was also nursing a goblet of a liquid that Merlin sincerely hoped wasn’t alcohol. Arthur being drunk wasn’t going to help matters at all. He watched as Arthur tapped the goblet to a steady rhythm, a noise that felt like the loudest thing in the room at the moment. Merlin thought he would be driven mad if he was stuck with just that noise for a long time.  
  
“Arthur?” Merlin spoke out loud, his tone tentative, as he approached Arthur.  
  
Raising her head, Krola looked to Merlin and then Zlota, though she looked rather disinterested in them being there. She set her head back down and gazed at the fire. A small whine came from the wolf dæmon though.  
  
Arthur still had his face turned away from Merlin, still intent at looking toward the hearth.  
  
“Arthur, are you drunk?” Merlin wanted to know because dealing with a drunk Arthur was not ideal, and it’d be better to come at another time if that were the case.  
  
Maybe he could make Arthur a hangover potion to use tomorrow morning.  
  
“Go away,” Arthur finally spoke, though his voice was hoarse. He continued, his voice stronger this time but Merlin could still hear his torment inside his words. “I don’t need you, Merlin, you or your magic. Just go away. Leave me in peace. Go back to the World of Magic. It’d be better there for you, as far away from me as you can be. Then we can both be…happy,” Arthur finished, his voice choking on the last word.  
  
“Oh god, Arthur. No, don’t say that. My true home is here in the Dæmon World. That will never change,” Merlin told him fiercely.  
  
He knelt before Arthur and grasped his hand, the one not holding the goblet, and looked earnestly at him.  
  
A quick movement, and a moment later Arthur released the goblet from his hand. The cup fell to the fur rug below with a soft thud. With relief, Merlin could see that the liquid was only water, the strong smell of alcohol absent.  
  
Merlin let go of Arthur’s hand that he’d been holding on to. He waved his hand at the fallen goblet and the water returned inside the goblet as if it had never been spilled.  
  
Arthur hung his head and he took both his hands to his face. Merlin heard a nearly imperceptible sob coming from his King.  
  
“Arthur, please. I forgive you, truly, sincerely, I forgive you. I’m sorry. Please, I mean it. I forgive you,” Merlin told him firmly, hoping he could get through to Arthur.  
  
Arthur set down his hands on his lap, and stared at Merlin in puzzlement. Silent tears streaked down Arthur’s cheeks and Merlin took out a handkerchief to wipe the wetness from his face.  
  
“Really? What led to this?” Arthur wondered.  
  
Merlin smiled. “I saw the light. All that matters is I want to be with you and work on repairing our relationship. I want that bond we had years ago. I miss it, Arthur. I miss us,” he told him.  
  
Arthur slowly returned his smile, finally seeming to believe in the truth of Merlin’s words.  
  
Merlin saw a golden light envelop Arthur – not unlike the golden light he’d witnessed enter Bran. This light made Arthur glow briefly as well.  
  
As Merlin hugged Arthur to him, the bright light surrounded the both of them in a warm welcoming embrace.  
  
Arthur returned the pressure, arms wrapping tightly around Merlin. He felt relief loosen the tension out of Arthur’s shoulders. Subtly, Merlin magically moved Arthur’s chair back so that Arthur was forced to sit down on the floor beside Merlin.  
  
Merlin let Arthur settle his head on his shoulder and Merlin gently stroked his blond locks trying to comfort Arthur. It had been far too heavy a burden to carry for too long. And now that the burden was lifted, Merlin felt Arthur relax, exhaustion settling in. Merlin imagined Arthur could finally get a peaceful night’s rest after years of emotional turmoil.  
  
But the greatest surprise came when Arthur reached out to Zlota, and he touched Merlin’s dæmon . Merlin was surprised yet ecstatic that he didn’t feel any pain at the contact. Instead he felt pleasure and pure happiness and love at Arthur touching Zlota. The promise he had made to himself long ago had lost its power. Merlin could only believe that the power and strength of his forgiveness of Arthur had allowed Arthur to finally touch his phoenix dæmon .  
  
And maybe after so long of a broken relationship, Merlin’s renewed love for Arthur played a part as well. Merlin liked to think so.  
  
“Merlin…?” Arthur asked. He pulled his hand away as if he’d remembered that he couldn’t touch Zlota based on the promise.  
  
Merlin grinned at him. “It’s all right, Arthur. The promise isn’t an issue anymore. I don’t feel pain when you touch her,” he assured Arthur.  
  
To prove his point, Merlin urged his dæmon to move closer to Arthur.  
  
Merlin encouraged Arthur to touch her again.  
  
And he did. Zlota leaned into Arthur as he hugged her to him and a great wave of pleasure came over Merlin. It was a brilliant feeling, and Merlin never wanted it to end.  
  
Arthur looked to Merlin, a serious expression on his face. “Merlin, we need to talk about your father… I regret it now so much. And I’m sure he would have been a much better father to you than my father ever was to me. The wrong man died that day,” he said to Merlin in a firm, certain voice.  
  
“There’s no changing the past. There’s only learning from your mistakes, and you have, Arthur. You’ve supported magic, even before I met you, even under your father’s magic-hating ways. And I love you for that, Arthur. I love you,” Merlin said sincerely, smiling fondly at him.  
  
He could just see Krola standing up and wagging her tail in happiness, and Zlota still lay upon Arthur’s lap.  
  
Merlin leaned toward Arthur and he kissed him deeply as if he was a sinking man and Arthur was his anchor. He needed Arthur and Arthur needed him.  
  
Arthur had both his heart and soul and Merlin wanted to weep with elation at the hopeful, bright future he could see ahead of him.  
  
He and Arthur were together again, two halves of a whole, and with their bond restored, Merlin felt they could face any trouble life sent their way.

~ * ~

Thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Definitely bittersweet to see this story end, but I'm glad to finish it. :) I started this back in October 2009 and I certainly wasn't expecting the whole story to take this long. But this story was always on the back of my mind and I'm quite fond of this universe I've set up. 

The sequel is up! **Sequel Link:** [The Raven Knife](http://archiveofourown.org/works/478987/chapters/831960)


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